


Think of Me

by kosame



Series: Think of Me [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexual Relationship, Asexuality, Coming Out, F/M, Family, Friendship, Hetalia Kink Meme, Jealousy, M/M, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-22
Updated: 2011-08-22
Packaged: 2017-10-22 22:22:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 35
Words: 37,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/243228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kosame/pseuds/kosame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Denmark is asexual. Norway refuses to let that come between them. A story of love, family, and the intricacies of negotiation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For Anonymous, who requested: Denmark and Norway are a couple. They are in love and live together, but Denmark is ace. Rather than pressure Denmark into something he doesn't want or break up with someone he's in love with, they agree that Norway can hook up with other people casually to get his sexual needs met. I'd love lots of awkward talking and uncomfortable feelings as they work it out. It starts out strange and uncertain, but eventually they figure out ground rules and a system that works for them.
> 
> This fic was originally posted to the APH Kink Meme [here](http://hetalia-kink.livejournal.com/20026.html?thread=74722106#t74722106)/[DW Mirror](http://hetalia-kink.dreamwidth.org/80823.html?thread=485992375#cmt485992375). Each chapter is one scene, and they take place in chronological order. For the purposes of this story, no nations are blood related, they're family by choice. Characters refer to each other in their own language, and I will try to provide footnotes for country names that aren't obvious to English speakers. Please enjoy it :D

"Sorry. Sorry. Sorry, Norge. Sorry."

Norway narrowed his eyes as he pulled on his robe, following Denmark to the other side of the bed. "Stop apologizing."

Denmark fell silent. He continued to stare at his hands, wringing them in between his knees.

"What's the matter with you?" He put a hand on Denmark's shoulder, and the crease in his brow deepened when he felt the tension there.

Denmark didn't respond right away, but Norway was far more skilled at waiting than his partner. The ticking of the grandfather clock in the hall seemed to get louder and louder. "Nothing!" said Denmark, the words bursting from his mouth as though keeping his mouth shut had been physically holding them back.

"Clearly it's not nothing." Norway's hand moved from the Dane's shoulder to his back, rubbing small circles there.

"It is," Denmark said. "It is. Our relationship is just so new, and I've wanted us to be together for so long, it's got to be that. It's all in my head. Really." He sounded calmer now, and he reinforced his words with a sincere smile at Norway.

Norway had his doubts, seeing as he was just as new to the relationship and, if he was honest, had wanted something more with Denmark for just as long, and he wasn't freaking out every time things went past kissing. Denmark would be the best person to judge his own feelings, though, so Norway left it at that.

He slipped beneath the covers and watched as Denmark got in the other side.

"Sorry, Norge," Denmark said again, smile still pasted on his face. "Love you."

Norway pulled him closer and kissed him on the forehead. "Goodnight."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beer and a heart to heart with Denmark's bro, (the) Netherlands.

"Hey," Denmark said as Netherlands opened his door. He went to close it again. "Wait! I brought beer!"

Netherlands looked between Denmark's grinning face and the cans in his hand before letting out a put-upon sigh and letting his friend in.

"Thanks, man."

Netherlands just grunted and shut the door. "That had better all be for me."

Denmark looked torn. "How about all but one?"

"Fine." Netherlands rolled his eyes and settled in the chair opposite where Denmark was standing. After handing Netherlands a beer, he followed suit.

"So. What's wrong in fairytale land this time? Noorwegen not like the dress your fairy godmother gave you for the ball?"

"Not cool, man. My fairy godmother would give me the perfect dress if I wanted one, which I wouldn't because I wouldn't fill it out properly."

Netherlands closed his eyes and shook his head a little as if to jostle the pieces of that sentence into making some kind of sense. "Anyway. What's up? You only come all the way over here when you have a problem."

"I." Denmark examined the droplets of condensation running down the smooth metal of his can. "Have a hypothetical situation for you."

Netherlands let his head fall back against the chair. He loved Denmark dearly, but sometimes he wanted to throttle him. "Yeah?"

"Say you'd gotten into a relationship with someone you really liked a lot, and things went really well for a while, and then you mutually decided you should take things to the next level, but then for some reason you just... couldn't."

Netherlands choked a little on his beer. "Couldn't what?"

Denmark still didn't look him in the eye, but made a strange gesture with both hands. "Couldn't."

"O-kay," Netherlands said slowly.

"What would hypothetical you hypothetically do?"

"Well," Netherlands said, trying to buy himself some time. "Hypothetically, are we sure I'm in love with this person in a dating kind of way and not a familial kind of way?"

"Yeah, we're pretty sure."

"Because your obsession with the rest of Scandinavia _is_ a little--"

"Ned! Focus."

"Ummmmm, we're sure I'm into dudes?"

"Uh," Denmark said. "Well, you're not into girls, but you're not into other dudes either, just Nor-- I mean, that person."

Netherlands leaned forward in his chair and really looked at Denmark. He squinted as though that would show him something about Denmark heretofore unseen.

"Dude, what?"

"You mean to say, you've never dated anyone else before, ever?"

"Yeah, well," Denmark shifted uncomfortably. "There was a lot of fighting going on, and he wasn't exactly thrilled about starting anything with me when we were, you know, united, and between all the wars and stuff I just never had the time."

Netherlands let out a deep breath. "That's not--" He cut himself off and tried again. "It doesn't work that way for most people, let alone Nations."

"Huh?" His perplexed face looked almost innocent.

How on earth could this be the same country whose battle axe was feared across Europe? "I'm saying, most of us find a lot of people attractive, even if we don't necessarily end up sleeping with them. Are you really sure there's never been anyone else?"

Denmark thought for a moment. "Yeah."

"That kind of dedication is admirable, but then how do you know you want to be with Noorwegen?" Denmark got a starry look in his eye, and before he could go off on the speech of how Norway was perfect in every way, Netherlands cut him off. "I mean physically. A time when you thought to yourself, 'Norge is hot'?"

"I-- I don't know. I can't remember ever thinking that!" Panic started to creep up Denmark's face.

"Whoa! Whoa, calm down." Netherlands waited until Denmark's breathing evened out before he continued. "If you don't want to have sex with anyone, you don't want to have sex with anyone. It's not a big deal."

"Isn't it? What am I going to do, Ned? What am I going to tell Norge?"

"The truth," Netherlands offered nonchalantly.

"I can't tell him the truth! He'll hate me. What if he hates me!?" He buried his head in the arm of the chair, the arm holding the beer forlornly scraping the ground.

"Hypothetically, I'd send him flowers."

"You send everyone flowers."

"Not my fault my flower is gorgeous and yours is practically a grass."

"I'd punch you right now if I wasn't so depressed."

"Look, Den, the only person in the whole world who isn't sure Noorwegen is head-over-heels for you is _you_. Give the melodrama a rest and just talk to him like an adult."

Denmark's eyes peered out hopefully. "Really?"

"Really."

Denmark laughed a little in relief. He lifted his can in Netherlands's direction, "Thanks."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Denmark's flower is the red clover, which is where the title comes from (clover means "think of me" in the language of flowers). The red variety in particular apparently means "cheerful," which I think it very fitting for him. Netherlands', in case you didn't know(?) is the tulip.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No flowers for Norway, neither tulips nor clovers. Things have to get worse before they can get better :/

Denmark's eyelids drooped and the end of his "t" trailed off across the line. He had headed back to Copenhagen from Amsterdam for an early meeting with his boss before the World Conference, but he couldn't sleep because he was too busy trying to figure out how he should bring up the truth with Norway. He was supposed to go back to Oslo with his boyfriend that night, and it had been killing him not to just blurt it out across the conference table. Luckily England was hosting the meeting and had insisted on seating them all alphabetically, so Netherlands could gesture at him to stop every time he got a crazy look in his eye.

Denmark had therefore decided to make the most of his friend's kindness and write out exactly what he would say to Norway in advance. It's not that he didn't trust Netherlands' intuition, but he felt it was better to be safe than say something stupid and have Norway dump him. Especially because he said stupid things all the time, so he had to avoid them when he could.

Czech Republic's chatter interspersed with angry strings of Czech every time he thought Denmark was ignoring him had kept him awake, but as they took the last break of the day, the Czech had said something that was clearly not nice and wandered off with a rude hand gesture, leaving nothing to anchor him to the real world.

"What have you done to my brother now?"

Denmark jerked up, startled by Iceland's silent materialization behind him. He scrambled to cover as much of his speech with his arms as possible. "Nothing!"

Iceland just looked at him.

He turned in his seat, placing his body in front of his notepad. "Everything's fine, Island, I promise."

"Oh, let me see if I can read it. I've been practicing!"

Sealand scooped the pad up from the table and began to study it intently. Denmark reminded himself he loved the kid to keep himself from snatching it right back. "Sealand--" He stood and began to reach forward, one hand still on the back of his chair.

"Dad, how do you say o-with-a-line-through-it?" The micronation went to show it to Sweden, who had been discussing something arctic sounding with Canada next to him, a finger pointing to the word giving him trouble.

For all the jokes Denmark had to endure about his language, he knew Sweden would know exactly what it meant when all Denmark's secrets were written there in front of his nose. He felt himself panic.

"It's called a 'slashed o' in English." Iceland. "But you should get this guy to say it for you."

Denmark let out a few deep breaths. "Yeah, if you have any questions about Danish, I'll teach you any time." He tried to tack on his best smile, but he wasn't sure if it had worked.

"Cool! I mean, you're sure I wouldn't be bothering you?" Something in the kid's tone made Denmark suspect there had been a lecture behind those words, but he couldn't blame Sweden for trying to get his son to calm down a bit once in a while.

"Of course you wouldn't."

"Thanks, Uncle Den."

Denmark shared a quick look with Iceland over the new nickname, but he was reasonable certain Sealand would drop it as soon as he thought of something he liked better, just like he had all the others.

"Oh, here's your pad back." Denmark let out an internal sigh of relief as Sealand returned his notes. "I didn't get much of it. Something about Norway? Are you writing him a mushy love letter?" The way he screwed up his face left no doubt as to how gross he thought mushy love letters were.

The tension started to seep away from Denmark for the first time since his talk with Netherlands the night before. He chuckled. "Something like that."

"If you like that kind of thing." Sealand waved, following his father further down the alphabet. "See you!"

Denmark and Iceland both waved, the former more enthusiastically than the latter. The Dane let himself collapse into his seat as soon as Sealand was out of sight. "Thanks for saving me back there."

Iceland gave him a look that said he clearly had no idea what Denmark was talking about.

"Did you read it all?" Iceland nodded. "Do you think he'll hate me?"

"I don't know. I'm not sure I even understood what you were trying to say under all those vague phrases."

Denmark made a noise of frustration and ripped off the top page of his notepad, balling it in his fist. "Of course it's horrible. It's like words just keep coming out of my mouth all the time, but I can never get them to mean anything I want them to mean." He buried his free hand in his hair. "Why can't I just stay quiet like the rest of you all?"

"That wouldn't solve anything."

After a moment, he loosened his grip, letting his hand fall back to the table. He looked up at Iceland. "You're right. I'm just terrified of screwing this up."

In a rare moment of open compassion, Iceland squeezed Denmark's shoulder.

"Thanks, Island."

Iceland blushed and swiftly pulled his hand back. "Just see to it you don't screw things up."

"I'll do my best." This time Denmark was sure his smile was sincere.

He gave Iceland's back a little wave as the nations began heading back to their seats for the final hour of the conference. As Czech Republic slid back into his chair, he made sure to flash him an extra big smile as an apology. From the affectionate tone of the Czech's insults, it sounded like it worked.

The rest of the speakers were barely even a background drone as Denmark stared at the blank page in front of him, focused entirely on coming up with an explanation for Norway. When England ascended the podium for the closing remarks, he realized he'd better just start writing, because he was almost out of time. Between being desperate and tired, he fell into a trance-like state, just letting the words flow across the paper.

The crack of a gavel brought him back to reality. The paper was covered in black ink, but his face fell when he realized what it said: _Jeg elsker dig_ , "I love you," over and over again. His vision began to blur, and he could almost see some of the more hastily written "i"s morph into into "e"s, becoming Norwegian. Desperation and Disappointment and Despair crashed over him in waves, one after another, and he realized he couldn't see because there were tears in his eyes from staring for so long.

"Ready?"

"Norge."

Norway frowned. Denmark hated when he made Norway frown, and he hurried to blink away any evidence of tears. "Sorry, I was just zoning out. I had to get up early for a meeting with my boss, you remember, so I'm kind of tired." He forced a watery smile, and forced the next words out around the lump in his throat despite the weight settled at the bottom of his stomach. "Anyway, let's go."

"Danmark," Norway began, but he hesitated as if not sure what to say, or ask. After a too-long moment, he settled for, "are you sure you're alright?"

"Of course," Denmark said, feeling anything but. He stepped towards Norway and put both hands on his shoulders. "I get to go home with you tonight, why wouldn't I be?"

Norway's mouth twitched, tempted to take his lover at his word. "I saw you talking with Island earlier."

"He just stopped by to say 'hi'."

"That's not what it looked like."

Denmark wondered if the panic had ever really left him, seeing how quickly it swallowed him again. He searched for something, anything, that would explain what Norway had seen if he had seen the end of their conversation.

"I--," he tried. "He--." Nothing was coming out.

Norway looked away, and spotted Denmark's notes. He stepped around them and picked up the pad. "Danmark, what's this?" Denmark sputtered for a few more moments. "The truth, please."

Eyes downcast, Denmark complied. "I went to Amsterdam last night, to see Ned."

"Okay," Norway said, puzzled by the apparent non sequitur.

"And I realized I had to tell you, so, I spent all last night laying awake thinking of what to say, and then all of the meeting trying to write something down for you so I wouldn't say something stupid like I always do, but," Denmark made a weak motion towards the pad, "that's all that came out."

Norway's mind raced, trying to come up with a reason why Denmark would have to write down an explanation for going to Amsterdam and not liking what his imagination was coming up with. "To tell me you went to see Nederland?" he asked, not liking what he heard in his voice.

"No! No, no." Denmark shook his head and smiled a bitter smile, "See? I've already put my foot in my mouth."

They were the only two nations left in the room, but even if they hadn't been, Norway found himself blocking out everything but Denmark. He raised a hand, then stopped himself, only to finish the motion a moment later when he remembered he was allowed to touch, and Denmark was allowed to see what he was feeling. His right hand on Denmark's arm, the pad forgotten in his left, Norway allowed his expression to soften a little.

"Danmark. Danmark. Danmark, look at me."

Denmark finally complied, but the lines of his mouth were still mutinous.

"Whatever it is, I'm listening, tell me," he implored.

"I love you, Norge," Denmark said.

"I know. You wrote me a whole page full." A smile ghosted across Norway's lips.

"I love you. I love you, but."

"What, Danmark?"

Denmark closed his eyes as if bracing himself and just blurt it out. "I-love-you-but-I'm-not-attracted-to-you."

Norway's answer was silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please excuse my google!Danish/Norwegian; anon speaks 4 languages, but unfortunately a Scandinavian language is not among them orz (I've been trying for years, but there's not a lot of resources for that where I live.)
> 
> The google says "I love you" is "Jeg elsker dig" in Danish and "Jeg elsker deg" in Norwegian, so that's what that bit is talking about, in case it wasn't clear.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Norway and Denmark dust off their negotiating skills and come to a preliminary agreement.

Unfailing optimism was the thing Denmark liked the best about himself. It had gotten him through his share of hard times, and was the quality that had gotten him his current relationship with Norway. It was also what had bolstered him as they headed to Oslo, Denmark obeying without question Norway's order that they would continue the discussion at home. He knew Norway pretty well, and he knew that there was no way he would have been invited to Norway's house if he was intending to dump him. He was actually smiling faintly as he watched his boyfriend fish for his keys and unlock the door.

"Sit," Norway said, gesturing to the chairs in the front room. "Are you thirsty?"

"Yeah."

Norway nodded and moved into the darkened house towards the kitchen. Denmark stood awkwardly in the doorway for a moment, then shut the door behind him and went into the front room. He flicked a lamp on and then shrugged off his coat and hung it over the back of the chair furthest from the door. His mind was blissfully blank, even as he paced slightly, his hand not leaving the back of the chair.

The glasses hit the coffee table with a thunk, and Denmark hurried around the chair into his seat. He was further heartened to see Norway had chosen the chair closest to him, even if his expression was as closed as when they had left London. "Thanks."

Taking a sip, Norway swallowed slowly. "I don't understand," he said after a moment. "Explain it to me so it makes sense. Repeat what Nederland told you, if you have to."

Denmark took a deep breath. "Well, I went to ask his advice about my, uh, problem," Denmark began, watching Norway's face carefully. "And he asked if I was sure I was into dudes. And I told him there had never been anyone but you." Norway's eyes reacted to that; Denmark thought it might have been surprise. "But then he asked me if I had ever really, you know, had thoughts about you, and me and you, and I realized I hadn't. And then he started going on about tulips _again_. I really worry about him sometimes."

Norway smiled a little at that, and Denmark counted it internally as a win. His expression turned introspective, inscrutable as always. After a long moment he said, "So it's not something about me?"

"Nope, it's definitely me that's causing all the problems. I did promise you things wouldn't have to change much when you agreed to date me!"

"That's... good to know."

Denmark sobered when he realized what Norway must have been thinking ever since the first time Denmark had pulled away from him and made some stupid joke about it. "Sorry, Norge. I didn't mean to hurt you. I wouldn't blame you if you hated me for not being able to love you right."

"I don't hate you."

"You should." Exhaustion hit Denmark hard, and somehow all the insecurities he had turned over in his head the night before were spilling out, not entirely with his consent.

"I don't."

"I'm a terrible boyfriend."

"Don't say that."

"You could do so much better than me." Denmark's voice was getting louder.

"Stop it!"

"Why don't you just tell me to get lost?!"

"Because I love you, you idiot!"

The sudden silence seemed louder than their shouts had been a moment before. Norway realized it was at least the first time he'd said that to Denmark without him saying it first, if not the first time ever.

" _Norge_." The rich emotion in Denmark's voice made Norway think maybe he was the one who was a terrible boyfriend.

"We can work this out," Norway said, and his tone brooked no argument. "Do you have a pen?"

"Yeah." Denmark reached for his bag, which was resting behind the chair. "Why?"

"Neither one of us wants to end our relationship, but I am fairly certain this would put a strain on our relationship in the long-term. I'm therefore proposing a three-party solution."

Denmark mulled that over for a minute. "Good idea!"

"So you write down your terms, I'll write down mine, and we can negotiate from there."

"What, you mean like a treaty or something? I trust you, Norge."

Norway's mouth flattened into a line. "I think it would be better if we set boundaries before we end up consumed by jealousy," he said dryly.

"Okay, okay. I get your point. Boundaries. Boundaries." He spun the pen between his fingers and looked down at the notepad in his lap, but it wasn't a blank page, but rather his "I love you"s from earlier. He carefully tore the top sheet off and offered it to Norway. "Uh, Norge, do you--?"

Norway reached for the paper more quickly than was dignified, and looked embarrassed even as he smoothed the page lovingly against his own folder. "Work."

Denmark grinned and picked up his pen.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At least 90% fluff. But that's not so bad, is it?

Norway awoke to the aromas of fresh coffee and warm bread, and forced himself to roll out of bed and stumble his way into the kitchen.

"Morning!" Denmark said cheerfully from the oven, where he was taking pastries off a baking sheet and putting them on a cooling rack.

Norway grunted in response and headed straight for the coffee. He heard Denmark muffle a laugh at the sound of bliss he made after having his first sip, but he also knew Denmark was aware of his feelings on mornings and how coffee was the only possible way to make them bearable, so he didn't feel the need to dignify Denmark's immaturity with a response.

"You're just in time! I was just having an argument with myself over whether I should wake you up or let you sleep."

"Bread's better when it's warm."

"True, true."

Denmark's wide smile in conjunction with baking was probably a good sign, Norway concluded. He had been fooled by his lover's smile in the past, especially because Denmark seemed to think lying to Norway or the rest of their dysfunctional family to keep them from worrying about him was not only perfectly fine, doing the opposite would be the morally objectionable thing. Baking seemed to be something Denmark genuinely enjoyed, however, so he probably wasn't faking cheer for Norway's sake.

"Here you go." Denmark slid a plate over to Norway and then sat down himself. "Sorry, I couldn't find any cheese."

Norway frowned at himself. "I meant to buy some on the way home yesterday."

He had meant it as an apology, but. "Sorry," Denmark said, staring down at his breakfast.

"I didn't--." Norway hated that he still didn't know how to handle these kinds of situations. "It's my fault for not remembering."

They ate in silence for a few minutes, until Norway spotted the draft of the guidelines they had come up with the night before. Denmark must have been looking it over while he was waiting for the pastries to be done. He reached across the table and pulled it towards him, skimming over his precise letters and Denmark's round, flowing notes.

"Looks pretty sound," Denmark said around bites, "which is probably all thanks to you. My brain was toasted last night."

"You're sure about this?"

Denmark shrugged, "If it doesn't work out, we can just renegotiate."

"I meant about the whole idea in general." Norway honestly wasn't really comfortable with it himself. Even with Denmark's approval, it still felt like a betrayal just to think about sleeping with someone else. He knew in his mind this "solution" was the only way they could avoid having the issue of sex hijack their relationship, something in his heart ached knowing it wasn't possible for them to be together physically.

"'S the only thing that makes sense, except breaking up, which we don't want to do. Maybe it's not perfect, but I'd rather be happy with you in reality than strive for some kind of ideal other people say we should want. You know, Ned keeps teasing me that we're like a fairytale, but I guess no one ever told him most everyone dies at the end of those." Denmark made a face of mild horror, and Norway nearly choked on his breakfast from laughing. Denmark hit him on the back a few times. "See? He's jinxed us."

Norway gave him a look and turned back to the "Treaty of Oslo," as Denmark had insisted upon naming it. It wasn't very long, just establishing that Denmark wasn't going to try and interfere in who Norway felt comfortable sleeping with, just as long as it wasn't Sweden (Norway had had to drag that out of him; he was obviously embarrassed about it, but Norway privately had understood completely), and that also meant he wasn't going to suggest anyone (or else Norway would probably get a little violent). He agreed it looked solid and set it aside. "It'll do."

"Great. I'll get my parliament to ratify tomorrow."

Norway knew he was kidding, but couldn't keep the sour expression off his face.

"C'mon, Norge, I was just kidding."

"Does your boss know we're dating?"

Denmark blinked. "He might. I didn't tell him, if that's what you mean, but he knows I'm up here with you at least three nights a week, so he may have figured it out. Why?"

Norway, in his new resolution to be more straightforward, said, "Is this a secret, Danmark?"

"You mean, Us? Or this?" He gestured to the paper next to Norway.

"Either. Both."

"I think it's a little late not to tell some people we're dating. Yesterday Tjekkiet1 was talking about me like I was some kind of traitor for working things out with you before he got back together with Slovakiet. I thought they both wanted that divorce? Honestly, I feel a little bad for him sometimes, I think he gets lonely."

Norway tapped his fingers impatiently on the table.

"Uh, yeah, my point is, I didn't tell him, but he seemed to know. So I think it's kind of common knowledge at this point."

"And this?"

"Just Ned and Island, unless they told someone. Or unless you told someone, though I don't know when you would have had the time."

Norway stood and gathered the dishes. "It's _your_... thing."

Denmark laughed. "Then I guess I'll keep it a secret at least until I can explain it in a sentence or less. No need to let the rumor mill exaggerate it to death."

Norway nodded and started washing while Denmark covered the left over pastries. He wasn't expecting it when Denmark hugged him from behind, impeding his ability to move around. He huffed in annoyance, but Denmark didn't let go. He smiled against Norway's neck for a moment, then looked up with a wry smile.

"We've been such responsible sovereign nations, and we have the whole day off, wanna go to the Viking Ship museum and relive our youth?"

Norway flicked some water from his wet hands over his shoulder. "Like you'll ever stop being a big kid."

"All part of my charm," Denmark shot back, trying to hide behind Norway somehow to keep from getting splashed. Eventually he realized it was futile to try and shield his large frame and had to move back.

"...I think I have passes inside. Go look for them," Norway said with a half-hearted swat of the dish towel in Denmark's direction.

From the next room, Denmark's laughter rang through and filled Norway's quiet house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1Czech Republic Back
> 
> The Viking Ship museum is an awesome looking museum in Oslo (http://www.visitoslo.com/en/the-viking-ship-museum-vikingskipshuset.84543.181482rb68.tlp.html), but I've never been myself, so please forgive me for not writing about it more detail orz


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Denmark suffers through an EU meeting (they bum him out), but hopefully he will get some personal good out of this one :D

17 new sandwich recipes. 3 scratched out starts to explanations of his and Norway's agreement. 1 completely frivolous and a-historic comic strip in which he and Norway were vikings and sailed to visit Iceland and give him some of the new sandwiches. No notes whatsoever.

EU meetings were not particularly productive for Denmark.

It didn't help he was paranoid that everyone would somehow be able to see his secret as clearly as if it was written on his forehead. Denmark had never been good with keeping his mouth shut; he relied on actual ignorance to keep people from knowing things.

 _I'm so good with lies, I make even myself believe them,_ he thought, before immediately berating himself internally. He meant well, but he couldn't stand to see the people he cared about disappointed, so the lies just spilled out before he could stop them. It was a bad habit, sure, but he was afraid of what would happen if he stopped.

It took Hungary leaning over and poking him with her pen to make him realize he was actually visibly moping, his upper body draped over the table and hanging down over the opposite side.

Maybe he wasn't as smooth at hiding his emotions as he thought.

He sat up and focused his attention on France's passionate speech. He wasn't sure if he thought France's ravings were completely justified or worryingly paranoid, but the negative vibes weren't doing his mood any favors. He forced himself to doodle France smiling, which turned into going around the room and drawing tiny little portraits of everyone, even the perpetually cranky ones like Austria, for the rest of the meeting.

"Dánia," Hungary said after the meeting was over.

"Hey, Ungarn. What's up?" Denmark greeted her cheerfully, humming as he gathered his things.

"I thought I should ask you that," she answered with laughter in her eyes.

He reflected on the meeting, and realized what she must have meant. "Oh, that. Well, you know, it's--" He realized he was about to tell her there was nothing wrong, and stopped. Earlier he'd come to the conclusion that he was afraid to tell the truth, and he wondered how a once great Nation such as himself had been reduced to being dictated by cowardice. He wondered if he could _afford_ such weakness.

"Dánia?"

Looking at Hungary, he was suddenly hit with a powerful need to tell her the truth, all of it. The strength of the feeling surprised him, and he opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Confused, he tried again. "I. I, uh." Fear came up behind the compulsion to blurt it all out, and he felt paralyzed, unable to find either the courage to tell her or the serenity to brush it off. "You don't want to hear this."

Hungary answered immediately. "Yeah, I do."

"Really?"

She smiled, though Denmark didn't miss the worry around her eyes. "Tell you what, let's go grab a coffee or something." And get away from prying eyes, she didn't add, but Denmark was aware enough of his surroundings to tell they had several eavesdroppers clustered nonchalantly nearby.

"Sure!" He forced down some panic and hefted his bag and coat.

They chatted about in consequential things on the way to a nearby cafe they'd been to once before. After ordering, they took their drinks outside to sit in the afternoon sun. Hungary waited patiently if expectantly for Denmark to say something.

He thought he was going to tell her, but instead he found himself swept away on another wave of emotion. "Ungarn, have I ever told you how much I love you? You're like a sister to me, the sister I never had. The best sister in the world!"

Hungary's expression recovered quickly. "I feel the same way."

"It just hit me, I don't think I've ever told you how much I appreciate you. I really, really do."

"Dánia, not that I don't like hearing you sing my praises, but you're scaring me. What's wrong?"

"Sorry," Denmark said. He took a sip of his coffee. "Sorry. I-- Don't be worried. It's nothing bad or anything."

"So then why can't you tell me what it is?"

"It's... hard to explain. Sorry, I should have thought before I said anything, I just, I wanted so badly to tell someone. Someone who wasn't so close to the situation."

"Well, you're going to have to tell me now. I'm not letting you off the hook."

Denmark fidgeted a bit, stirred his coffee for no reason, took a sip, and then took a deep breath and let it back out. He looked up at Hungary with a self-depreciating smile and said, "I found out the other day I've been wrong about my sexual orientation for hundreds of years."

A crease appeared in Hungary's brow. "Oh?"

"Yeah. Turns out I'm not into men like I thought I was."

The crease deepened into a furrow. "You... like women?"

Denmark shook his head.

"I don't follow."

"I don't like men or women. I'm..." he searched for a word. "sexless."

Hungary just looked at him for a moment, clearly thinking out the implications of what he was saying. "What about Norvégia?"

"He's... surprisingly okay with it. I think. I don't know!" Denmark's mood dipped again. "He proposed an open relationship as a solution, but I don't think he's thought it out any further then discussing it with me. I told him he should dump me, but his response was that he loved me! The more I think about it, the more I realize I can't tell what he's thinking at all. I know he doesn't do things he doesn't want to do, so he must want to be with me, but I also know he wants more from me. My moods change so quickly, I get whiplash, and I can't figure out why it's even happening. How can I sort out his emotions if I can't get a handle on my own?" He gripped a fistful of hair and clutched his cup in the other.

Hungary pulled his hand away from his cup and across the table towards her. "Did you get it all out?"

Denmark let go of his hair and looked almost surprised at himself. "Think so."

"Do you feel better now?"

"Much." Something inside him had settled after speaking so honestly. The nervous energy was all gone, replaced by something resembling his usual calm. "Thanks, Ungarn. Sorry to just rant at you like that."

"Nonsense, what are sisters for?" Hungary patted his hand again before giving it back to him. "As for dealing with emotionally distant men, I would say confronting them with your concerns is really the only way to go about things. Although my best advice would be to give up on Germanic languages completely, it's not an emotionally healthy language family."

"Hey, there's me and... Belgien?"

"You just told me even _you_ don't know what you're feeling."

Denmark laughed a full, round laugh. "You have a point." Somehow their short conversation had him feeling immeasurably better about everything. "Anyway, I think I'm talking too much. How are things in Budapest?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We rejoin Norway's life already in progress, and introduce our first third party.

Norway waited in his boss's office, sitting stiffly in one of the chairs. He knew he might be there a while yet; his boss didn't seem to like him much. He hadn't wasted much time thinking on what about him was so objectionable, because bosses came and bosses went, but it did annoy him that his boss didn't value his time.

He was especially irked his boss was keeping him waiting on this day in particular. Analyzing his feelings was not something he liked to devote a lot of time to. It was annoying enough that he couldn't control feelings he didn't want, they didn't deserve any more attention than absolutely necessary. In spite of this policy, recently he hadn't been able to keep the strict barrier between his head and his heart from being breached.

Objectively, it was all Denmark's fault. He wanted to berate Denmark for causing him trouble, and then have the Dane laugh and answer with some inane explanation of how they were the best of friends, like they used to. Denmark had promised him nothing would change, and he wanted to be angry that this relationship had upset the comfortable balance of their friendship. But, he had never asked for that promise.

If there was blame to be had, it was on Norway. He could have said "no," just like he had been saying "no" to Denmark and to himself for hundreds of years. He had "no" when Denmark had been asking, he had said "no" even when it might have pushed his country to war if Denmark had been anyone else. He had said "no" when they had been so desperate and in need of comfort, and he had said "no" even after his independence and national identity was secure. Yet he had been the one to approach Denmark and suggest they date. And now, thanks to him, his confident, happy Denmark had a lost look in his eyes and nothing but apologies on his lips.

Norway flattened his mouth and got up, intent on forcing his thoughts out through his feet with rapid steps. He refused to even consider regretting it even for a moment. It was done, and now they'd have to deal with the consequences.

His eyes caught on the ornamental globe on his boss's bookshelves. Norway didn't make a habit of sleeping with other nations. You were stuck with them at the big world meetings at the very least if something turned into a problem, and Norway didn't like problems. But he was planning on being with Denmark for a long time, so a Nation to whom he could explain the situation once and be done with it might be preferable to expending lots of time and energy he could be spending with Denmark on finding new people all the time.

 _Someone very far away_ he thought, and put a finger on Oslo, traced it around to the back, and spun the globe around to face him. His finger was covering Siberia and Alaska, and took a moment just to berate himself for being so stupid. Shaking his head, he spun back to Europe and decided to try longitude instead. He landed in the ocean and traced back north, tapping a finger in contemplation over Cape Town upon landfall. He and South Africa got on well, though they spoke infrequently. His impression was of a well-spoken nation who made it a point to be friendly to everyone, at least since turning over a new leaf a few years back.

It was worth a phone call, he supposed. He went back to his boss's desk, thinking vengefully it would serve his boss right for being late if Norway made him wait with a personal call.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Sør-Afrika. This is Norge."

"Noorweë?" South Africa's laugh was tinny over the line. "This is a surprise. Anything wrong?"

"No," Norway replied, taking a seat in his boss's chair. "I just thought to call you."

They talked about insubstantial subjects, things like the funny thing South Africa's boss said the other day, or Norway's recent moose sighting. The conversation moved from cordial to friendly, and Norway was surprised at how at ease he felt talking to this nation he barely knew. Time slipped away, until South Africa mentioned he had a meeting with his boss he had to leave for. Surprisingly, Norway didn't even have a dark thought for his own boss, he was in such a good mood.

The invitation was on the tip of his tongue, but for some reason he didn't say anything more than pleasant goodbyes.

He stared at the phone, laying there in its cradle, not quite sure what was happening. He wanted someone he liked and who was easy-going enough to be open to having a casual relationship, and South Africa seemed to fit the bill. So what was the problem?

His good mood soured. He gathered up his things, unwilling to wait for his inconsiderate boss any longer, and stormed home, intent on not thinking about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I confess to ignorance regarding Norwegian politics, and would like to make it clear that Norway's boss is not based on any real Boss of Norway :Db


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To Stockholm, for a family get together.

Knocking interrupted Norway as he was putting the finishing touches on a report. He started to get up, but sat back down as he saw Denmark shoot out of the bathroom and down the hallway.

An enthusiastic "Island!" boomed from the direction of the front door, but Iceland's response was too soft to be heard. Denmark's chatter grew closer, until he appeared in the doorway with an arm around Iceland. "Norge, Island's here!"

Norway spared him only a second of glower. "Shut up, I can't think."

"He has to finish something before we go," Denmark said to Iceland in what was clearly meant to be a whisper but wasn't actually quiet at all. "I think they've been stressing him out at work."

Iceland gave Denmark a look like that last comment had reached new depths of stupidity. Norway privately agreed, and picked up the pace of his typing. Only a sentence or two more and he was done.

"How was the flight?"

"Same as always."

"Good!" Denmark squeezed Iceland's shoulders, jostling the smaller Nation.

Norway shut the top of his laptop perhaps a little harder than necessary.

"Finished?"

Norway thought that much should be obvious. "Fix your tie," he snapped.

"Huh? Oh, I was in the middle of doing it when Island showed up." Denmark let go of Iceland, who subtly moved out of reach, and puzzled down at the half-tied mess around his neck.

"Give it here," Norway said with an exasperated sigh. He moved to stand directly in front of Denmark and knotted it with efficient motions, gently cinching it around the other man's neck and smoothing his collar and shirt as well. He looked up a few moments later. "You're welcome."

"Thanks, Norge." Norway felt his breath catch at Denmark's genuine smile, and he couldn't bring himself to even care about the stab of annoyance it sent through him as the moment stretched on. "Well, then, we should get going!" The atmosphere was broken, snapping back as if elastic. "Don't want to be late!"

Iceland raised an eyebrow as Denmark put a hand on his shoulder and steered him towards the door. Norway's irritation flared back up as if it had never been gone. Then Denmark reached back, threading his fingers through Norway's and pulling him along.

Against his better judgment he ran his thumb across Denmark's knuckles, and got an answering squeeze. They didn't hold hands often, especially not with someone else around, so he had a small heart attack when he looked up to find Iceland giving him a questioning look. He nodded, which seemed to be enough for Iceland, who slid into the car. He had to forcibly remind himself Iceland knew both about them and about Denmark.

 _Island knew before you did_ , his voice said inside his head, but he shut that train of thought down violently as he clicked his seatbelt into place. He could imagine how Iceland must be in a difficult position, being so close to both Norway and Denmark and having to worry about what he would do if the two of them broke up. Just another reason he had to make things work with Denmark, then. They had finally gotten some semblance of a situation that worked after their family had been dysfunctional for so long. Norway refused to be the one who messed that up for the six of them.

He started the car and set off for Stockholm.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Family time :Db

The door opened before Norway could knock. "Welcome!" Finland greeted them, Sealand lurking behind him.

"Hey! We brought bread and dessert and some vegetables and-- Island, what did you bring?"

"Wine." Iceland thrust the bottle at Finland.

"Thanks," Finland said with a question in his voice, as if he was still overwhelmed by Denmark and taken aback by Iceland even now. Norway thought it was poor form to make their hosts uncomfortable.

"Sorry for this guy's loud mouth," he said to Finland, then turned to take one of the many bags weighing Denmark down. "Here, give me one. You always try to carry too much."

Finland led them inside, Iceland's wine in hand. "They're here!" he called in to Sweden in the kitchen. He then turned to the three of them, and gestured at the sofa. "Why don't you guys make yourselves comfortable? Sealand, can you take those bags from Tanska in to your father?"

"Sure," Sealand chirped, but Denmark shook his head.

"I got it, thanks Sealand."

Sealand looked disappointed, and huffed down in the seat next to Iceland.

Denmark gestured for the bag Norway was holding back, and he gave it without protest. He sat on Iceland's other side.

"How was the drive?" Finland asked, uncomfortable with the three frowns on the couch.

"It was fine. But Island might be tired, we left as soon as his flight got in."

Iceland shrugged. "I have to fly anywhere that's not home, so I'm used to it."

"You could take a boat," Sealand offered. "Boats are nice."

Iceland shrugged again.

"When did you get in?"

"A few days ago," Finland said. "I just came back with Ruotsi from the EU meeting the other day. I have to go back tomorrow, though."

Sealand made a disgruntled sound to indicate how he felt about Finland leaving. Norway wondered how Sealand expected to be taken seriously as a nation if he didn't recognize a nation's first obligation was to his people at home. "How did the meeting go? Danmark didn't mention much about it."

"It didn't end in a fight, so it was a pretty good meeting. I'm not sure Tanska remembers anything about it, though," Finland said with a chuckle.

"What do you mean?" Norway asked a bit too sharply. He felt Iceland and Sealand's full attention settle on him.

"He was just being a little dramatic, you know how he is, draping himself across the table and writing furiously even when no one was talking. I figured he had just--" Finland's eyes narrowed. "Why? Did something happen?"

Norway pressed his lips together and looked away from the three of them.

"Norja--"

"Drinks!" Denmark came from the kitchen, grin blazing. "Here ya go, Finland, Sealand, Island, Norge." He looked for a moment between Finland and Norway, but didn't say anything as he sat in the chair opposite Finland, closest to Norway.

They sat in silence for some moments thereafter, sipping their drinks and listening to the clock tick, tick, tick away. It was a small mercy when Sweden stuck his head in. "Food's ready."

Finland gave a tight smile. "Let's all go inside, then. Sealand, did you set the table?"

Sealand stood up ramrod straight. "I forgot!" He scurried away. Iceland trailed after him.

Sweden kept his gaze on Finland, reading the tension in the atmosphere. His quizzical look was met with Finland shaking his head slightly. He looked back over his shoulder, and Sweden followed his line of sight, but he continued out of the room, pulling Sweden with him.

Denmark put a hand on Norway's knee, and smiled at him expectantly when he looked up. Norway took a deep breath and banished all the negative feelings swirling in his chest; this wasn't the place to get upset over things he couldn't control. He patted his lover's hand twice, then got up and went in to the dining room, Denmark a solid presence at his back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm departing a little from tradition, but Finland's "Su-san" just really doesn't jive for me. I wish I spoke Finnish so I could come up with an appropriate nickname, but alas, I do not.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iceland and other things that will be important later.

Iceland was looking better, Norway thought. His eyes moved from the rear-view mirror back to the road, but it was comforting to see his little brother sleeping soundly, apparently recovered from his economic troubles. Denmark seemed to have the same thought, turning forwards again with softness in his expression. Norway realized he was gripping the wheel so tightly it almost hurt and forced his hands to relax.

"I think it's just the travel and the time difference," Denmark said, his voice mingling with the noise of the radio.

"Yeah."

They sat in relative silence for a few moments. A sign indicating they were almost to Oslo whipped by.

"Norge?"

"Hm?"

"Tonight was good, right?"

"Yeah," Norway answered.

Denmark settled into his seat. "I should have you guys to København some time."

It was something he said after every one of their get-togethers, but it had yet to happen. Norway didn't really understand why he never made good on the promise to invite them over, but he reckoned Denmark must have a reason. "If you can find a day it's not raining," he replied.

"Maybe in the summer when the flowers are blooming," Denmark continued as if he hadn't heard. "Or maybe I could make soup to warm you in the winter." His smile turned, as if he had made a joke at his own expense.

"Stop mumbling and get some sleep," Norway said, even though they were almost there.

Denmark chuckled. "Thanks, but I'd rather keep you company."

"Some company," Norway said, but he knew the Dane knew he was blushing regardless of whether or not his face was sufficiently hidden in the darkness.

They lapsed into silence again until they arrived at Norway's home. Denmark coaxed Iceland into moving, and the three of them shuffled up the walk. Norway went straight to bed and slept.

It seemed like no time had passed when the sunlight forced its way past Norway's eyelids and brought him to wakefulness. He sat up and rubbed at his eyes, unwilling to be up. He changed and slumped down the stairs, but froze on the last one. He could hear voices in the kitchen, and they were clearly talking about him.

"--fine between us. Please believe me."

"Then why do you look at him like that when he's not watching?"

 _Like what?_ Norway thought, willing himself into calmness.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't play stupid with me."

"I'm just trying to be careful."

Norway heard a snort that had to be Iceland's. "Sorry, you don't look like a martyr to me. More like a coward who's scared of taking any risks at all."

Denmark didn't respond. Norway desperately wanted to see his lover's reaction, but he didn't dare move.

"Danmörk. Hey." A beat. "Even you are allowed to be happy. Whether it's with my brother or not."

"Island..."

"Don't get me wrong, I'm not helping you," Iceland said, but it was clear it wasn't what he meant.

"Thanks for the talk anyway," Denmark said, the smile back in his voice. "You always know just what to say to help me."

Though he was effusive as a general rule, something about Denmark's words had Norway gripping the banister in anger. He looked at his hand when he realized, trying to figure out what was going on but falling just short.

There was nothing strange about Denmark and Iceland talking without him; they were both early risers, while he hated mornings. It made perfect sense that they would talk before he woke up. And his and Denmark's relationship was Iceland's business more than probably anyone else's. They were family, and it was natural for family to discuss such things. So why was he so upset? He couldn't be... jealous?

 _No, of course not,_ Norway thought, shoving the ugly feeling down. He had just had a stressful week ending with those reports his boss had foisted on him at the last minute, that's all. Still, the sinking feeling of guilt persisted. He was clearly making Iceland and Denmark worry, which was unacceptable. He had to get things under control, quickly, so he could reassure them he didn't love Denmark any less just because they weren't sleeping together. Iceland especially didn't need to be worrying about this; he and Denmark were supposed to take care of Iceland, not the other way around.

He fixed his ordinary stony expression on his face and walked resolutely to the kitchen. Instead of making his usual beeline for the coffee pot, he headed straight for his boyfriend at the range.

"Good morning, Norge! The coffee should be-- huh?"

Norway reached up and wound his arms around Denmark's neck, pulling him down and kissing his cheek. "Morning." He could feel Denmark's wide eyes following him as he went back to the coffee pot and then slid into the char next to Iceland. "Sleep well?"

Iceland nodded, even as he regarded Norway warily.

"Good. You'll need that stamina for this afternoon."

"I'm not so old I need to get a good night's rest or be useless the next day," Iceland said haughtily.

"Norge, we're not." Denmark made a face as he slid breakfast across the table to the two of them.

"We are."

"Noregur and I decided on this months ago."

"It's not a difficult trail, don't be such a baby."

"Don't worry, we'll protect you from the 'scary' wildlife." Norway and Iceland rolled their eyes nearly in unison.

"You win." Denmark knew when he was beat, his dislike of hiking notwithstanding. "The scariest thing out there isn't the wildlife," he added under his breath as he went to take a sip of his juice.

"What's that? You're hoping to see my troll? He'll be touched to know you miss him."

"Ack!" The juice splattered all over his chin, and he scrambled for a napkin. Iceland hid a smirk behind his hand.

"It's too bad he's up north at the moment."

" _Norge_." But despite the whine in his voice, Denmark was smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I do enjoy _Scandinavia and the World_ as well :P


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arriving at a conference. I finally begin to address the prompt!

The elevator doors shut, and with them went the bustle of the lobby and the murmur of countless conversations. Ensconced in the strange, silent world of hotels, Norway contemplated his room key. It had been worth the raised eyebrow from Switzerland to change his standing rooming request from "anyone but Denmark" to "Denmark," especially they hadn't seen each other at all recently thanks to this conference. He knew beforehand that giving his feelings for Denmark an inch would result in them taking a mile, but here he was, in the elevator, missing his lover the most he had since he and Iceland had gone home two weeks earlier, and there was nothing to be done about it. He tried not to will the elevator to go faster, or curse when the wheels of his bag got stuck, but anything that slowed him down was irrationally and powerfully annoying, and he couldn't wait to hear the click of the door opening.

Everything outside the room ceased to exist when he heard the warmth in Denmark's voice. "Norge!" Suddenly, he could be bothered with bags or keys or any of it. He dropped everything he was holding right there inside the door and crossed the room to where his boyfriend was sitting on the bed working in long, heavy strides. Sparing only the slightest bit of care for the laptop and important papers, he climbed across and buried his face in the Dane's shoulder, scrambling for purchase on his other arm to support Norway's awkward position. Denmark returned the embrace as well as he could with his arms pinned to his sides. He strained his neck to plant a kiss on the top of his boyfriend's head.

Norway kicked at his shoes, trying to get them off so he could get closer to Denmark but unwilling to let go and do it properly. One shoe hit the ground with a thump, then the other, and he wiggled his hips up until he could use his feet to push himself the rest of the way. When he no longer had to rely on his grip on Denmark's shirt to hold himself up, he moved his far hand to his lover's cheek, kissing him properly. They broke apart only after several more long kisses, and Denmark gently bumped his forehead against Norway's. "Missed you."

"Stupid, it hasn't been that long since we saw each other."

"I miss you even when you leave the room to take a piss."

Norway rolled his eyes. "Only you could say something like that and mean it to be romantic."

"Always." He gave Norway a quick peck on the lips. "Though right now, sorry, but I have to finish this before the reception tonight."

"Fine." Norway turned to squint at the laptop screen, replacing his arms in a loose embrace around Denmark's shoulders.

"Uh, Norge?"

"Work," Norway ordered. "Look, here, you've spelled this wrong." He could feel the fight drain from Denmark's shoulders as he apparently accepted that Norway wasn't willing to let him go at the moment.

"Thanks."

They stayed that way for a while, speaking only when Norway felt the need to criticize Denmark's word choice. Long acquaintance made the silence comfortable, and they were both loath to move even after Denmark finished his work and opened Solitaire.

"Preussen actually showed."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, he was complaining about how 'far' he had to come." Norway snorted. "He and England want to go drinking tomorrow."

"Just don't let anything get magicked. I'm tired of being asked to undo England's follies. Put that on the black nine."

"I'll do my best." He finished the game, closing the top of his laptop on the red 'X' signifying "game over." "Hey, we should probably get ready for the reception."

Norway hummed noncommittally, but did let Denmark up, sliding down the pillows and curling up on the comforter. He followed his lover with his eyes as Denmark picked up Norway's bags and put them next to his own. He zipped his suitcase open and began to rummage through it. He pulled out a dress shirt and slacks and began to pull off the casual wear he had chosen for traveling. "Are you gonna change too? Can I pull something out for you?" he asked over his shoulder. "Norge?" He turned around as he shrugged the new shirt on to Norway unmoved from his earlier position, staring up at him.

"I'll change in a minute," Norway said, "I'm allowed to admire the view, right?"

Denmark laughed. "The Danish Ministry of Tourism and Communications encourages all sightseeing!" He leaned over as he worked on his buttons and kissed Norway's temple.

Eventually they made it out the door freshly pressed, and walked hand in hand to the elevator that would take them back to the chaos of the lobby.

"I hate these things," Norway said, picking imaginary lint off Denmark's shirt.

Denmark shrugged. "There's nothing to be done about it. Work is work." He kissed the back of Norway's hand. "See you in a few hours?"

Norway went on his tiptoes and kissed Denmark on the lips before he put his game face on. "I'll come get you." He strode out of the elevator as the doors opened, Denmark waving after him. He hoped Denmark would remember to get out of the elevator before it went back up.

The ballroom of the hotel certainly was impressive, grand chandeliers glowing softly on the other punctual nations and their bosses. He approached Liechtenstein, who seemed to be checking people off as they arrived.

"Norwegen!" She smiled widely at him, and he tried not to make his next sentence betray his annoyance for her sake.

"Liechtenstein, good to see you."

"And you."

"Has my boss shown up yet?"

She looked down at her clipboard. "Yes, I believe he should be inside."

"Thank you." He walked in and looked around, praying his boss would defer to their mutual dislike and let Norway mingle separately, but he wasn't holding his breath. Before he could spot his boss, however, a voice from behind him said, "Noorweë?"

He turned around. "Sør-Afrika."

"It is you, my friend! I appreciated your phone call the other day."

"No, thank you for humoring me."

"Anytime, anytime." Someone Norway didn't recognize put a hand on South Africa's shoulder and said something lowly in what Norway was fairly certain was Afrikaans; a member of the South African delegation, then. "I'm sorry, you must excuse me. If you don't mind, I would like the chance to speak to you more. Say, dinner after tomorrow's meetings?"

"Sounds great." Norway forced himself to say despite the nebulous discomfort in his stomach.

"Wonderful. I will see you then."

Norway nodded and watched South Africa leave for a few moments, before turning his mind towards tracking down his boss. His inner cynic told him it was going to be a long night before he could finally drag his boyfriend away and lose himself in dreams and Denmark's cologne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The hotel is not based on any real hotel in Geneva :D


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More South Africa.

Norway's stomach started churning again as he followed a happily chattering South Africa into one of Geneva's many beautiful restaurants. He wasn't much for small talk on a good day, and so nodded strategically and hoped his dinner partner wouldn't find him rude.

"Have you been here before?" South Africa asked.

"No," Norway answered, looking around at the tasteful modern decor. It relied heavily on glass and water elements.

"In that case, let me order for both of us. This is my favorite restaurant here, so I've eaten here enough to know the menu very well."

Norway nodded.

A smile played around South Africa's lips. "You know, for someone who picks up the phone on a whim to call the other side of the world, you aren't very talkative."

"Sorry," Norway said, eyes inspecting the floor. "I don't usually do things like that. Or like this."

South Africa began to reply, but was interrupted by the waiter come to take their order. He rattled off his selections from memory, and while he did, Norway took the opportunity to force himself to calm down. He was set on enjoying this dinner, and he wouldn't let even himself stand in his way.

"It's fascinating."

"Pardon?"

"You calling me. You. You're fascinating, is what I was going to say earlier."

Norway blushed a little in embarrassment at the compliment. "What's fascinating about making a phone call to get petty revenge on my boss? If I rack up enough telephone charges, maybe he'll be thrown out of office."

"Surely he's not that bad?"

"No," Norway admitted grudgingly, "but that doesn't mean I like him."

"We all have bosses we don't like. I remember, I had one boss..."

With the ice broken, Norway threw himself wholeheartedly into the conversation, and the food, when it came. It was all delicious, just as South Africa had promised, and he was so caught up in the discussion his after-dinner coffee got cold before he could drink it. They walked back to the hotel and lingered in front of the elevators, unwilling to head back to their respective rooms just yet. When they finally parted, it was with a promise of dinner again the next night.

Norway's footsteps were the only sound in the silent corridor, and the click of the lock echoed down the hall. Unsure if he had beaten Denmark back, he pushed the door open slowly and stood just inside waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness.

"Norge?" Denmark's voice was fuzzy with sleep and drink.

"Go back to sleep," Norway soothed. "You'll be useless for your presentation tomorrow."

"'Night." He let his head fall back to the pillow.

A few minutes later when Norway slipped in next to him, he didn't lay awake thinking, but joined Denmark in sleep right away.

Morning came too soon, as it always did, and Norway hated mornings at conferences even more because he would have to get dressed before he could get breakfast and, more importantly, coffee. Denmark, as usual, was too dense to read Norway's "not awake enough to talk" vibes, and was enjoying telling Norway everything he and his idiot friends had gotten up to the night before in great detail. Norway just stared at him blankly in the mirror as he brushed his teeth.

"By the way, I got an invite from Ungarn for tonight."

"Me too," Norway said, spitting out the toothpaste schmutz.

"Oh? She didn't mention--"

"Not from Ungarn, idiot."

Denmark laughed. "That makes more sense! What are your plans?"

"Dinner with Sør-Afrika."

"Sydafrika? Didn't you go out with him last night as well?"

Norway turned his attention to parting his hair properly. "Yeah."

"I didn't know you were friends."

"We're not, really," Norway said, and watched Denmark's expression carefully out of the corner of his eye.

"Then--? Oh." Denmark's expression turned pensive, and he was no longer looking at Norway in the mirror.

"Yeah."

A few moments passed in silence, then Denmark looked up again, smile plastered on his face. "Well, that's good that you've found someone you like! I don't know much about what he's doing nowadays, but I always heard good things about him, and he does seem really intelligent and friendly. I bet you enjoy talking to him, you always did love a good conversation. It must be--" Denmark was startled into silence when Norway slammed his hands against the counter. His hair hung over his face, hiding his expression from Denmark. "Norge?" he asked hesitantly.

"Could you please be a little less cheerful about it?"

Denmark's face went carefully blank. "How would you like me to react?"

"I don't know," Norway admitted. "I'm sorry." He ran the tap and splashed some water on his face. "Shit," he swore under his breath. "I just--" he tried again, "Don't stand there telling me what a great guy he is. He's not--" He took a deep breath and forced himself to finish the sentence. "He's not _you_."

Denmark was quiet for a moment, never a good sign with him, and Norway wished he had the courage to look up and see whatever truth was written on his lover's face. A gentle hand on his shoulder made him jerk his head up. He let go of the comb that had been digging into his palm, and watched wide-eyed as Denmark tenderly pulled it through his hair, smiling softly. "The invitation was to girl's night," he said, casually picking up the topic from earlier. "Just between you and me, I think she's after my superior baking skills."

"Or she's teasing you."

Denmark hummed a shrug. "Well, she's stuck with me now. She should know I'm too thick to pick up on things like that." He smiled wickedly, confirming Norway's suspicion Denmark took advantage of his reputation for being stupid when it suited him.

"I'm still a little surprised you accepted."

"Are you kidding? It's the hottest ticket in town! Preussen nearly had a meltdown when I told him."

Norway smiled in amused disbelief. "You're cruel. Just don't get yourself shot by Sveits for going near his precious little sister."

"Ungarn said she vouched for me. Fingers crossed." Norway snorted. "Turn around." Norway complied, and Denmark reached around him to pick up his hairpin, crouching down and putting it in with an almost comical display of concentration. "There, done!"

"Thank you," Norway said, trying to make sure Denmark knew he didn't just mean for his hair.

Denmark smiled and straightened up. "I wonder if that's why Island can't get a date."

"What?"

"Schweiz giving the rest of us a bad name. I mean, yes, I have a big axe, but it would just be a little _friendly_ threatening."

"Speak for yourself," Norway said darkly, turning to put away his toiletries.

Denmark kept laughing all the way to the elevator.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think Scandinavians may press their thumbs instead of cross their fingers for luck, but I couldn't find any conclusive information, and I wasn't sure how to translate the idiom anyway.　:/


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things fall apart.

Their second date went much in the same way as the first, except this time Norway picked the restaurant and tried to be as good a host as South Africa had been the night before. Halfway through dessert, though, South Africa let the conversation lapse, then asked, "So, you may have called me to get revenge on your boss, but you didn't have dinner with me two nights in a row because of him."

Norway picked at his cake. "No, I didn't."

"So I guess what I'm asking is--"

"You're not reading me wrong. I called you with the intention of more than a stimulating conversation."

South Africa chuckled, probably because of Norway's bluntness. "I didn't think you were the type for a conference fling."

"I didn't mean to imply--" Norway tried to back pedal, but South Africa cut him off.

"Don't worry, I'm definitely the conference fling type." His smile took on a sharp edge. "And I like what I've seen of you so far."

Norway considered South Africa's handsome features and shining vitality all nations shared that set them apart from ordinary humans. No one would say he wasn't handsome or charming. He made his decision. "I could say the same."

"Then, how about coming up to my room after this?"

"Love to."

The conversation returned to light topics as they finished and walked back to the hotel, but unlike the previous evening, they didn't linger in front of the elevators, Norway following South Africa in and watching him punch the button for his floor.

"Nervous?" South Africa asked right in his ear, the puff of air on his neck setting his nerve endings on end.

Norway clenched a fist, angry at himself for behaving like a blushing virgin. "No."

South Africa gave him an amused look and led the way out of the elevator to his room. He ignored everything the back of his mind was trying to tell him and stepped over the threshold. He let himself be crowded against the door and divorced himself from thoughts outside of the moment, concentrating on South Africa's lips, his hands pulling on South Africa's lapels, and the heat between them as they moved from the wall to the bed.

Afterward, it took Norway only minutes to begin feeling sick again. He rolled out of the bed and began gathering his things. "I should go. Your roommate--"

"Won't be back 'til later, don't worry," South Africa said from his languid position still in the sheets.

"Still, I don't want to impose," Norway said, pulling his clothes back on.

"Noorweë," South Africa said, waiting until he had Norway's undivided attention. "This was fun. Feel free to give me a call anytime."

"You were right. I'm not the type to do this."

"Just for conversation then."

Norway forced a faint smile. "I'll do that."

"Good night."

"Good night." It took effort not to run for the elevator, but he forced himself to calm down, afraid any sudden movements might cause his stomach to move from nausea to outright rebellion.

He didn't remember the trip back to his own room, but was pathetically relieved to find himself the first one back. He headed straight for the shower, turning the water up as hot as it would go and washing every inch of himself twice, then a third time for good measure.

When he finally got out, he shrugged on some sleep clothes and sat heavily on the side of the bed. He tried to sort out why he felt so horrible. His feelings were knotted in his chest, one thread guilt over using South Africa, one thread guilt for enjoying it, one thread an inexplicable feeling of betraying Denmark, and one traitorous thread bitter anger at Denmark for the whole situation. The more he tried to sort out his feelings, the more tangled they seemed to get. He knew in his head what he'd just done had been the right course of action, so he didn't understand why his heart couldn't get on the same page.

It might have been minutes or hours that he sat there before Denmark came back, humming. He flicked the light switch and stopped in his tracks, as if hadn't seen Norway there. "Norge? Why were you sitting in the dark?"

Norway didn't bother to try and answer around the lump in his throat.

"Are you... Are you _crying_?"

"No," he croaked, the watery tone of his voice undermining his claim.

"What happened? Are you hurt?" Denmark knelt down next to the bed, putting a comforting hand on the small of Norway's back.

"I'm _frustrated_!" He tried to push Denmark's arms away. "Don't touch me! I hate you!" Denmark actually did what he asked, letting his arms drop to his sides and looking at Norway in shock. A new thread of despair added itself to the knot in his chest, and he couldn't hold back a sob. "I hate myself."

Denmark surged up and pulled Norway tightly to his chest. "Norge."

"I'm sorry." Norway pleaded. "Please forgive me. Please, Danmark."

"Shhh." Denmark just held him. "It's okay. It's okay."

Norway clung to Denmark as if he was the only thing keeping him afloat while he weathered the torrent of emotions. He stayed like that until the storm gave way to the merciful oblivion of sleep.

He woke some hours later to find Denmark still holding him tightly. Norway watched him, peaceful in sleep, and recovered his inner calm. Even with the trouble they'd had in the past, Denmark had always been his best friend, and he gently traced those dear features with his fingertips. Tonight may have been a mistake, but Norway would learn from it. "This won't come between us," he said quietly, redoubling his resolve. "I won't let it."

He pressed himself even closer against Denmark and went back to sleep.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Denmark and Norway deal with the fallout.

"Danmark, you're hovering."

"Oh, am I?" Denmark laughed nervously and took only the smallest of steps back from Norway in his seat at the conference table. Still deeply unnerved by the events of the night before, he was irrationally hesitant to let Norway out of his sight. He fidgeted, looking around the room, before jerkily pulling out Sweden's seat and dropping into is sideways so he faced Norway, his fingers kneading each other between his knees. "Hey. Hey, Norge."

Norway still didn't look up. "What?"

"How about we run away together after the conference?"

Norway stopped writing and slowly looked up with a blank look on his face. He blinked once.

"We could just get on a bus, or a train, and _go_. Play hooky, annoy your boss?" He added the last bit in a honeyed tone of voice.

"Go _where_?"

"Does it matter? Please, Norge."

Norway turned back to his writing, and Denmark felt his heart sink. "Running away isn't going to solve our problems," Norway said as his pen sped across the paper in flowing script. "What we need is a revised plan of action. Here."

Denmark began to flip through the papers Norway had given him. "Norge, you," he said in disbelief, "weren't taking notes?"

Norway rolled his eyes. "I don't need any notes on America's scheme to improve world trade through a series of pneumatic tubes running across the ocean floor, thanks."

The plan began with a "lessons learned" section at the top, followed by a bulleted list of tasks to be done divided into two columns, one for things that were Norway's responsibility and one for Denmark's, and a rough timeline. The rest of the pages were devoted to breaking down each task in more detail and explaining the goal of each.

"Wow, this is..." He was at a loss for words.

"Read it. I have to go set up for my presentation."

"Huh?"

Norway gave him a look as he reached down for his laptop bag. "Don't pretend you were going to do anything but stare at me with a dreamy look on your face. If you really need to know, I'll fill you in later."

"But--"

"Read it." Norway made for the front of the conference room, leaving Denmark sitting there stunned. He stayed that way, not sure if Norway was in a bad mood or just being himself. He felt helpless.

"Yer in my seat."

Denmark jumped and clutched Norway's papers against his chest. "Sorry, Sverige."

Sweden gave him a considering look, but didn't say anything.

"Nothing's up. I was just over here, but I'm gonna go."

Sweden raised an eyebrow.

"Good talk, see ya later." Denmark hurried back to his seat, passing Iceland and Finland. He and Sweden still hadn't mastered the art of talking to each other without things escalating into a fight, but he had been trying. Sweden's strategy seemed to consist mostly of saying as little as possible, which just made Denmark want to talk more. He had worn down Norway and Iceland with unrelenting streams of chatter, so he was confident he could do the same with Sweden. He was going to have to talk a whole bunch more if they were going to follow Norway's plan.

"'Ask Finland and Sverige's advice as the longest lasting couple of our acquaintance'?" he read incredulously under his breath. "If just declaring you 'my wife' would have worked, Norge, I'd have done that years ago." He thought for a moment. "Maybe you should have declared me _your_ wife. You're much more like Sverige than Finland."

"What's that?" Finland asked, turning away from a conversation and back towards the front in his seat.

"Just speculating on my masculinity," Denmark said, assuring his conscience it was (a version of) the truth. "I did go to girl's night last night."

"What?" Finland's eyes went round.

"Yeah, it was pretty fun actually."

"Tanska," Finland said solemnly and put a comforting hand on Denmark's, "if there's anything you want to tell me...?"

 _Well, there is one thing..._ "No, no, it's not what you're thinking."

Finland straightened up and looked a little embarrassed. "Sorry, I had just heard there was a strict 'women only' policy, so..."

"Don't worry about it, I have no idea why they let me in either. But I guess Ungarn is in charge of them or something like that?"

"She invited you? Why?"

Denmark shrugged, even though he knew _exactly_ why. "Does she need a reason to do anything?"

"I guess not," Finland said, not looking quite satisfied.

"I did have to be endearing and spill flour all over myself to get Hviderusland1 to stop glaring at me, but I have a lot of experience winning over fair-haired grumps." He gave Finland a cheeky smile.

"I'm hope you're not including me in that," Finland said in mock-offense.

"Of course not. You don't get grumpy, you get even." Denmark pulled a face to show how scary he thought Finland was.

"And don't you forget it!" Finland laughed.

Switzerland got up to call the meeting back to order, so the two of them turned to their respective Norwegian plans. Denmark didn't notice if anyone found it strange he wasn't staring at Norway, rapt. He was too busy annotating the newest hope he was clinging to for saving his relationship for the most important person in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1Belarus Back


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a little scene, but a necessary one.

Norway heard, rather than saw, Denmark's big yawn and stretch. He knew in a moment Denmark would start talking, and he felt preemptive annoyance tightening his jaw.

"Thirsty, Norge?"

"No," Norway ground out.

"Hungry? We have been at this a while now."

" _No._ "

"Are ya sure? I was going to get some water for myself so it wouldn't be any trouble..."

"Stop. Asking."

"Okay then," Denmark said lightly, as if he hadn't noticed the icicles hanging off Norway's words. He went to the kitchen, and Norway took a moment to try and calm himself down.

He was being too hard on Denmark, he knew that. They had been working on their respective step ones of the plan all morning, but progress had been slow, especially for Denmark, and it was frustrating. Every little thing was grinding on his nerves, and Denmark was the only one around to take it out on, which wasn't fair to him. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"I'm back!" Denmark announced, carrying two glasses of water. He set one down next to Norway. "I know you said you weren't thirsty, but just in case." His smile was tinged with cautious hope, and Norway suddenly felt like even more of a horrible person.

"Thanks," he mumbled, picking up the glass and gulping half of it down.

"See, you _were_ thirsty!" Full laughter made Norway's insides go a little mushy.

"Of course I wasn't," he said crossly.

Denmark just smiled. "Bet you're hungry too."

Norway didn't respond.

"We could stop for lunch, you know."

"If you're hungry, eat something," Norway said, back to typing.

"That's not why..." Denmark shook his head. "I have to go back to København tonight, and I don't know when I'll get enough time to see you again. I can watch the little blinking cursor taunt me while I miss you from my kitchen table."

"We should get this done as soon as possible," Norway insisted.

"Why? What's the rush?"

Norway looked away and didn't answer.

"Norge. Tell me."

"I overheard you and Island talking," he finally said.

"What?" A furrow of confusion appeared in Denmark's brow.

"Not the whole thing, but enough to know we're even worrying him. I want to get this _settled_."

Norway could see Denmark weighing the possible responses in his head. Slowly, carefully, he asked, "Were you uncomfortable with whatever happened the other night as it was happening?"

Norway clenched his fists involuntarily. "I don't want to talk about it." Except he did.

"Did you know _before_ it happened?"

Norway stubbornly kept staring at the wall. Denmark took one of his fists into both his hands in silent prompting. "Since the beginning," Norway admitted.

Denmark made a sound between an exhale and a sigh, one Norway had trouble deciphering the meaning of, especially without being able to see his face. "Island will just worry more if you keep pushing yourself too hard like this. I will, too." He gently kissed the hand he was holding, and Norway let the tension drain out of him.

"Why are you only ever this eloquent about getting out of work?" he said with no real bite to it.

"Gotta save it for when it's most useful," Denmark said. He closed his laptop with one hand and used the other that was still holding Norway's to attempt to pull him up. "C'mon, lunch!"

Norway glared at Denmark. "Shut up for two seconds and let me save this."

Denmark laughed.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Denmark visits Helsinki.

After the bus pulled away, Denmark took a moment there at the stop to steel himself for the conversation ahead. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and let it back out again, then adjusted his coat against the cold Helsinki air and turned to walk down the street. He had still been revising what he was going to say to Finland on the bus, but he had already told Finland he was coming, and he had the other 20 drafts in this pocket, so he supposed he could try them one by one if nothing else.

"Tanska!" Finland greeted him warmly, and Denmark didn't have to fake enthusiasm in return. "I was a little surprised when you said you wanted to visit," he said as he ushered Denmark in and gestured for him to sit, grabbing some coffee for the two of them.

"I should hope I haven't been neglecting my favorite Finn so much he expects me not to call him," Denmark said with a tinge of humor, accepting the offered mug with a word of thanks.

Finland didn't say anything, preferring to let his expression speak for him as he fought a losing battle with an indulgent smile. They enjoyed the coffee for a moment, then Finland prompted, "So?"

"Hm?"

"You didn't come all the way over here just for a cup of coffee. I spoke with Unkari."

Denmark spared a dark thought for Hungary's tendency to meddle in her friends' lives when she thought it was for their own good.

Finland must have read his expression, because he added, "I called her. She said it was something you'd better tell me yourself, but she and Norja clearly have been worried about you since at least our last family gathering, so you're going to have to forgive me for being a little worried myself."

Even though he knew Finland cared about him, he couldn't stop the selfish feeling of happiness at hearing Finland say it. "I'm sorry," he said, not sure if he meant it or not. "It's just proved a little difficult to explain so far. I wrote something down, if you want to hear it?"

"I'd love to."

Denmark dug into the pocket of his coat, folded neatly next to him, and pulled out a a sheaf of papers folded once in half. He took the top sheet and refolded the others, putting them on top of the coat. He cleared his throat and looked nervously at Finland, who just watched him with an expectant smile.

"As you're probably aware--" he began, but broke off, turning red. "This is so embarrassing."

Finland just patiently kept waiting. He was enjoying watching this, Denmark just knew it.

"As you're probably aware," he tried again, "I've been in love with Norge for quite a long time. That I was so focused on one man led me to believe that I was probably only interested in men. While uncommon for our kind, it's not unheard of." He glanced at Finland out of the corner of his eye, who motioned him to continue. "Recent events, however, have suggested that I am not attracted to men, either. This has--"

"You mean you're asexual?" Finland cut in.

Denmark's eyes narrowed in confusion, but his interest was piqued. "What's that?"

"People who aren't interested in men or women. Sometimes they go by 'nonsexuals.' You mean you didn't google it?"

"No," Denmark said in a small voice, suddenly feeling foolish.

Finland shook his head in fond exasperation. "Anyway, keep going." Denmark could see a little line of worry settle itself between Finland's eyes.

"This has not affected my commitment to Norge, or his to me. We have decided to try an open relationship as a solution. For now, we would like to keep the situation between ourselves and our close friends and family. I am confident we will continue to build a strong and loving relationship."

Finland digested that information for a moment, looking a little unhappy. "So you want me to keep this a secret?"

"Just until we get things figured out. We've had some setbacks, but Norge made a plan that I'm sure is going to work this time. We're not going to let this get between us." Denmark tried to put every ounce of certainty possible into the last statement.

Finland sighed in resignation. "So who knows then?"

"You, Ungarn, Ned, and Island."

"So you haven't told Ruotsi yet."

"I was thinking I might just send him a letter," Denmark mumbled.

"Tanska," Finland scolded, "You need to tell him yourself, in person."

"I know." Denmark tried to look as pitiful as possible. "Unless you wanted to help me...?"

"No can do," Finland said, ignoring Denmark's puppy dog eyes. "I swear, the pair of you, you need to get over it already. We agreed to collectively bury the hatchet, didn't we?"

"Yeah."

"Then why are you two tiptoeing around like you're waiting for the other one to declare war on you?" The forcefulness in Finland's voice made Denmark think this wasn't the first time this issue had been discussed.

He put his hands up in mock surrender. "I'll tell him, I promise"

"Good." Finland sipped his coffee menacingly as if to make sure the threat was understood; Denmark hadn't known such a thing was possible. "Thank you for telling me," Finland added, demeanor changing. "I've been killing myself trying to figure out what it was."

"Thank _you_."

Finland reached over and clapped Denmark on the shoulder. "We're family, aren't we?"

Denmark nodded, too busy fighting the mistiness in his eyes to give a verbal response. He wished he never had to go back to his house in Copenhagen, where it was cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my head, Finland worries about his family and friends a lot. Not so much that he calls Sealand to ask if he's wearing a sweater, but :P
> 
> I also just found out that Hungarian and Finnish are related, and them being buds worked perfectly for plot purposes. I kind of want to see Finland and Hungary's adventures being awesome together now, but... My outline for this fic urges me to reconsider >.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Norway reaches out to a friend.

Norway didn't have a lot of close friends. He thought it was probably part geography and part personality, but he mainly kept to his family of neighbors. Sometimes he was a little envious of Denmark's vast network of friends outside their family, especially when his problems were with Scandinavia.

Finland had called earlier to tell him that Denmark had been there, and as he casually mentioned Hungary's involvement, Norway felt acutely isolated. He had friends, but he felt funny relying on them for something so personal. Between Denmark and Finland, he began to wonder if he shouldn't.

He minimized the charts his finance ministry had sent over and opened his e-mail. Close to the top of his inbox was a message from Estonia, the most recent of their bi-weekly correspondence. The two previous e-mails he'd sent had been carefully constructed to obscure his relationship troubles, but this time he thought it might be best to confide in his friend. Ambivalent, he wrote a normal missive, and added a vaguely worded hint something was bothering him only at the end. Estonia could decide whether they were close enough to talk about this kind of thing or not. He clicked "send" before he could think better of it and went back to work.

He found two e-mails waiting for him the next morning. The first was from Denmark, explaining he had a word for himself now and linking Norway to a website in English and a couple of articles in Danish. Making a mental note to come back to the links when he finished his coffee and had the energy for other languages, he went back to his inbox. The second message was from Estonia. It was unusual for him to reply right away, so Norway wondered if he had unduly worried his friend, frowning slightly as he clicked to open it.

It read simply, "If you need to talk to someone, I'd be happy to listen."

Norway stared at the screen, sipping his coffee and debating whether or not to take Estonia up on his offer. He eventually closed his e-mail when he got up for his second cup and got to work. His inability to make up his mind frustrated him a little. Around lunch he went back to considering the message, deciding finally that if he hadn't wanted to talk about it, he shouldn't have said anything in the first place. Estonia would worry if Norway tried to play it down as nothing after already saying it was causing him trouble.

"Thank you for offering to listen," Norway wrote back. "I'd like to take you up on it, if you don't mind." He wrote a condensed version of Denmark's new identity, incorporating the word his lover had sent over earlier, and asked Estonia what he thought of trying an open relationship.

Two days later he found a response even longer than the message he'd sent in the first place. Apparently Estonia had done extensive research on the topic, recommending websites and books and outlining main ideas. He was careful not to give his own opinion, but as Norway skimmed the e-mail for a second time, he felt touched Estonia would do all this for him. In his response, he thanked his friend effusively (for him) and answered the sole question in the e-mail: How had he come up with the idea of an open relationship so quickly?

The story of his relationship with Grete wasn't something Norway had shared with anyone before, but spurred by the warm feeling of his friend's concern and giddiness at having someone to talk to, he found himself telling the whole thing, from the beginning fifteen years prior to their final break-up just last year. He had met Grete in a club, and didn't know terribly much about her when they first became involved. She had a natural grace and smiling ease that made Norway simultaneously envious and soothed by her presence. When once became twice became five times, she had put on as serious a look as she could manage and said, "I wanted to let you know, I have a husband." At first he had been resistant to being "on the side," but as she explained the details of her and her husband's arrangement, she limned a picture of trust and honesty that was something Norway had lost centuries ago, if he ever had it to begin with. He was drawn to the glow of their love as they had an on and off relationship over the years, even beyond the point she started to realize he wasn't aging and he should have broken things off but couldn't. It was Grete's example that had encouraged him to have enough confidence to approach Denmark about dating in the first place, and the crinkles around her eyes when she told him to "go get him" that finally made him think it was possible that maybe two old countries embittered by war and cynical politics could have something resembling what she and her husband had found.

Estonia thankfully didn't ask why Norway didn't go back to Grete in his response; he wasn't forbidden from telling citizens who and what he was, but he didn't think he could bear to tell her he'd been being dishonest about his basic existence when she so valued honesty and he so valued her opinion. It had strained their last few meetings, and he selfishly wanted to end the relationship on the high note it deserved. Instead, Estonia said he understood what a powerful positive experience that must have been.

They continued to exchange e-mails, Estonia asking questions to help Norway try and define what he wanted out of relationships, and Norway gradually figuring things out. He left it until a week after the usual e-mail about the state of things in Tallinn didn't come to inquire as to his friend's affairs, unsure if he should feel guilty about talking so much about himself, or if the little bit of annoyance he felt at not really getting back on a personal level was justified.

"Sorry," the last line of the reply said, "It's just really interesting talking to you about this, I got carried away."

Something about that didn't sit right. "What about you?" he wrote back, "Could you ever see yourself in a non-monogamous situation?"

Estonia's reply took four days to come. "No," it answered, "I'm probably just old fashioned, but something in me sees it as a betrayal. Especially the kind you're talking about, where the third person is just a casual relationship without emotional investment. Maybe if everyone were involved with one another, but not an open relationship. That's not to say I think what you're doing is wrong as long as you and Taani are okay with it, but I could never do it myself, I'm sorry."

Norway closed his laptop, plunging the room into semi-darkness with the loss of the backlight. _Oh,_ he thought as he realized the acid in the back of his throat was disappointment at the loss of something he hadn't even known he was hoping for. He closed his eyes and took deep breaths, trying to convince himself not to be hurt at what Estonia had said. It was silly to feel bad when Estonia had made it clear it was only his opinion and not a condemnation of Norway's behavior. It was silly to feel rejected when he hadn't actually asked anything. But there he was, in the dark, feeling about as low as he had in a long while.

He went back over their conversations, trying to figure out where he had gone so incredibly wrong. He thought of Grete and what she would say if she saw him like this. In his mind he could see her shake her head, hear the tsk tsk click of her tongue.

He didn't even realize he'd forgotten his coat until he was halfway to Copenhagen.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talking in Copenhagen.

"Hello?"

"Danmark." Norway's voice was tinny but unmistakable over the line.

"Norge!" It was hard for Denmark to keep the excitement out of his voice at actually receiving a phone call from his boyfriend.

"Can I come visit you?"

Denmark ignored the knot of unease in his stomach at the idea. "Of course you can."

"Good."

Denmark waited for a moment for Norway to continue, but he was interrupted by his doorbell. Puzzled at who would come calling this late, he wondered if he shouldn't ignore it. The visitor rang the bell again. "Sorry, hold on a sec, there's someone at the door."

"Hurry up and open it," Norway responded peevishly.

Nonplussed, Denmark made his way briskly to the entryway and opened the door without looking to see who it was.

"Finally," Norway said from his doorstep in only his shirtsleeves. While the weather was gradually moving away from the chill of Spring, it still wasn't warm enough to be out at night without a coat, and Norway didn't even have his suit jacket. He ended the call on his mobile, and gave Denmark a blank state as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. For his part, Denmark could only silently move slightly to the side to let Norway in.

"You said I could come," he said after a few moments of silent staring.

Denmark didn't know how to begin addressing the situation, so instead he smiled and indulged his lover just like always. "So I did." He began to lead the way into his living room, trying to do a mental inventory of what he had to offer in his kitchen. "So, why are you here?" he asked over his shoulder. Norway's footsteps behind him stopped. He turned to find Norway staring at him coldly, immobile in the middle of the hallway. Then, without a word, he spun and went back. Denmark sputtered and bodily threw himself down the hallway and between his lover and the door, even as Norway had his hand on the doorknob.

They stood there for a moment, Denmark's huffs as he tried to catch his breath the only noise. Norway stared into Denmark's collarbone without annoyance, frozen in the act of leaving but not acknowledging the man in his way. Denmark's expression was panicked in a way that surprised even himself in the tiny back part of his mind that was the only bit not devoted to _not letting Norway out the door_.

After a few moments, Norway looked up, and Denmark braced himself as he met Norway's icy glare. But whatever Denmark had been expecting never came. Instead, Norway looked down and let himself fall forward, his forehead gently meeting Denmark's chest. "Maybe I wanted to see your stupid face."

Denmark hesitantly put an arm around Norway, and he responded by hugging the stuffing out of Denmark. "Norge," he said with humor in his voice, "I can't breathe." Norway squeezed him harder. _Should have known better_ , he thought to himself. He returned the embrace, though without the same fervor, and said, "I missed you, too."

Pulling apart a little, they kissed, Norway pressing Denmark back a step and against the door. It was difficult to decipher the emotions there, part desperate and part possessive and even part hopeful. Denmark tried his best to answer and be whatever Norway needed from him.

Abruptly, Norway pulled away, stepping back and breaking contact completely. He was flushed and breathing hard, hair mussed from where Denmark's large hand had been cradling his head. Denmark froze, his mind rapidly jumping to conclusions and unwilling to foolishly put them into words.

"Shouldn't you offer a guest something to drink?" Norway finally said.

"Right," Denmark said, peeling himself off the door. "Sorry, what would you like? Something warm? What were you thinking coming all the way down here without a coat?"

"Coffee," was the terse response.

"Of course," Denmark said, and let Norway lead the way down the hall. "Let me just put some on."

He spent the whole time the coffee was brewing staring at the drip drip drip of the liquid into the pot, trying to make sense out of any part of this visit and coming up with nothing. When it was finished, he brought it in to Norway, who had wrapped himself in a knit blanket and wedged himself in a corner of the loveseat. Denmark hesitated before dropping into the seat next to him, careful to push himself to the opposite arm and leave some space between them. Both hands occupied with absorbing warmth from his steaming mug, Norway extended one blanket covered foot and poked Denmark in the side with his toe, who relaxed into the seat more naturally and filled some of the gap.

"I didn't mean to just show up like this," Norway said after a moment, and Denmark recognized it for the apology it was.

"Not a problem," he said, "but don't you have work tomorrow?"

"Don't care."

They sipped at their coffee in silence, Denmark watching Norway out of the corner of his eye but pretending not to. When Norway's mug was empty, instead of demanding another cup like Denmark was expecting, he simply leaned forward and put it on the coffee table. Denmark followed suit.

"Is it true, what you said the other night? About me being the only person you ever loved romantically?"

Denmark turned his head to see the earnest expression on Norway's face. "Yeah."

"Really? Out of all the people you've met, just me?"

"Yeah. I mean, I have lots of friends, but you've always been my _best_ friend."

Norway didn't look pleased with that answer. "I rejected you over and over. Didn't you ever think about giving up? Didn't you ever get lonely?"

"Yeah," Denmark answered a little hoarsely as he looked away. His throat constricted at the mention of being lonely.

"So then why--?" He broke off and got the emotion in his voice under control. "Why me?"

Denmark didn't have an answer for that. He'd thought about, if he actually had wanted sex, would he have stayed focused on Norway for so long? Would he have ruined their friendship by not taking no for an answer back when he controlled things? Was he really even in love with Norway? Had he been focused on the idea of being in love with Norway to distract himself from how abnormal his feelings were? The more he thought about it, the more he wondered if he could trust himself. He felt guilty about some of the things from his past, but he was slowly becoming convinced he would have been ten times worse had it not been for the accident of his sexuality. "I don't know," he croaked.

"How am I supposed to live up to that?"

Denmark's head whirled back to Norway, and it dawned on him that everything Norway had been thinking was completely different from his own internal fears. He sputtered. "There's nothing to 'live up to'."

"Isn't there? You really don't think anything of the fact that I've had tons of relationships, but for you it's only ever been me?"

"But I'm not normal," Denmark said vehemently. "And those are just my feelings, besides. You're not responsible for them."

Norway looked like he wanted to say something scathing, but held his tongue, boring into Denmark with a glare. Denmark tried to return the favor, but he had never been good at being angry at people he cared about.

Deflating with a small sigh, he said, "Do you want me to be jealous? Of course I am. I'm not a saint, you of all people should know that."

A little flicker of shock went across Norway's features, and his eyes softened into something resembling empathy. "I guess I might understand that feeling a little."

Denmark laughed. "You? Jealous?" He leaned over and put a hand on Norway's ankle. "Surely not."

Norway shrugged the blanket higher, ostensibly to enhance his glare, but probably also to hide a faint blush on his cheeks.

"You're so cute," Denmark said absently.

"Shut up," Norway snapped, cheeks burning.

He didn't look quite comforted, so Denmark added, "I don't know about those other people, or whatever happened earlier to set you off, but I know whose couch you're on right now. As long as we come back to each other, does it matter where we were in between?"

Norway just looked at Denmark for a moment, then heaved himself out of the corner and spun around to bump his shoulder against Denmark's. "Don't say things like that; it's out of character."

"'What does it mean to commit oneself to love? Where is the boundary? When have I fulfilled my duty? In what, more closely defined, does my duty consist? In case of doubt, to what council can I apply? And if I cannot fulfill my duty, where is the authority to compel me? Who will punish me? Answer: you yourself.'" Denmark finished reciting with a cheeky smile.

"So you have one philosopher." Norway rolled his eyes. "Don't get full of yourself."

"Feeling jealous again, Norge?"

"You are insufferable!" Norway swung his far arm around to hit Denmark in the shoulder he had previously been leaning on.

"You would know best," Denmark said through his laughter, ignoring the weak punch as always. He turned and took advantage of Norway's momentum to pull him into a hug, one hand holding Norway's against his chest, the other around the Norwegian's back.

"Stupid Danmark," Norway muttered against Denmark's chest, but he made no attempt to get away, shifting his legs so he could get closer.

They stayed that way until a loud grumble from Norway's stomach interrupted their moment of quiet. "You didn't eat anything before jumping in your car, did you?"

"Don't care." Norway curled his fingers into Denmark's shirt as if to keep him anchored in that moment with him.

Denmark shook his head fondly. "C'mon. It's not healthy to skip meals." He was afraid Norway might be stubborn, but with a sigh he heaved himself up. He followed Denmark sullenly into the kitchen, his face returned to its usual indifferent expression. Still, as he reached into the cabinets for the things he needed, he stole a glance at his lover, leaning against the counter with his arms and legs crossed, blanket still around his shoulders, and thought that this was perfection, and he would enjoy it the best he could for as long as Norway inexplicably, miraculously decided to stay with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The quote above is abridged, from Kierkegaard's Either/Or. My headcanon says Denmark is kind of a bookworm, although I don't think he has much of what he reads memorized.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Norway seeks some advice.

Norway casually hit "ignore" and slipped his phone back into his pocket. He looked again at his watch, waiting impatiently for the conference room door to open. The hallway was a bland gray, perfectly boring.

When the meeting finally adjourned, he made no move to give anything but the most cursory greetings to his fellow nations as they filed out; he supposed he was lucky no overly friendly nations were on this particular committee. He'd been a little worried Sweden might get in his way, but he only gave Norway a confused look, to which Norway had non verbally responded for him not to worry about it. Turning from Sweden's intense stare, he pushed off the wall he'd been leaning on and headed for his target, the chair of this meeting.

"Hello, Frankrike."

France looked up from where he was gathering his notes, a line of confusion momentarily appearing in between his eyes. "Norvège, what a pleasant surprise!" he said with all the grandeur that made him the envy of party hosts worldwide. "It's been too long since we last spoke."

Norway hated how awkward he felt when schmoozing was required, especially because it was essentially his purpose in this age of diplomacy. He tried not to let his irritation show, because he was sure France would misinterpret it. "I thought so, too."

"Well, then, how about we share a drink and catch up?"

"Perfect." His phone rang again. He frowned at the screen, this time switching it off entirely; for someone who seemed to hate him quite a bit, his boss sure was persistent.

"Are you otherwise engaged?" France asked cautiously.

"Not at all," Norway replied. "Shall we go?"

Snapping his briefcase shut, France inclined his head and gestured for Norway to lead the way out of the room.

France took them to a cafe not far away. It was warmer on the street than Norway was used to at home. He wondered how much of it was climate and how much was heat from the vibrations of his nerves. He stuck his hands in his pockets and tried not to get too worked up.

The conversation once they were seated, perhaps in deference to Norway's hatred of small talk, got right to the point. "What brings you here today, _mon cher_?"

Norway debated how straightforward to be. He wasn't particularly close with France, but they weren't on poor terms either. "I came to ask your advice on something. I apologize if I've made any false assumptions, but you have a certain reputation." He cringed internally at how poorly he was putting this into words.

France smiled knowingly. "Whatever you have heard is probably true, especially if it is to do with matters of the heart."

Incredibly embarrassed at having been seen through, Norway nodded tersely in confirmation. "Is it true you don't believe in monogamy?"

"Ha!" France laughed sharply. "As if _l'amour_ is so small a thing as to only be enough for one person."

Norway was rapidly remembering exactly why he didn't interact with France very often. He pulled out his most diplomatic voice. "Then, as someone not as skilled in ' _l'amour_ ' as you, may I ask you a question in confidence?"

Eager at either the flattery of being turned to as a source of wisdom or the prospect of becoming privy to personal secrets, France's eyes shone as he nodded. "Of course."

"I'm in a relationship right now--" Norway began tentatively.

"With _Cher_ Danemark," France supplied.

Norway resisted the urge to glare at France. "Yes. And, to come directly to the point, we have decided monogamy is not an option for us."

France looked intrigued. "That's an interesting way of phrasing it. Although, I suppose it does explain the rumors about you and Afrique du Sud floating around recently."

A flash of shame that he couldn't keep off his face was followed quickly by surprise. "There are rumors?"

"There always are. But tell me, what do you mean by 'not an option'?"

Looking down and to the side, Norway searched for a way to put things into words. Finding no appropriate euphemisms in his vocabulary, he opted for bluntness. "Danmark doesn't have sex with anyone at all."

Confusion spread across France's handsome features. "A vow of celibacy?"

"No." Norway shook his head. "He's not attracted to anyone in a sexual way."

France squinted a few times, as though he could see things more clearly simply by using his eyes. "Forgive me, but weren't the two of you--?"

"No," Norway cut him off.

"And you're sure this isn't a problem with him being attracted to you in particular?"

Norway's cheeks burned. "He assures me it's not."

France hummed in a conciliatory way.

"I wouldn't stay with him if I didn't believe him completely," Norway said coldly, feeling the need to defend Denmark since he wasn't there to defend himself.

After considering him for a moment, France smiled apologetically. "That was rude of me, I apologize."

Grudgingly, Norway let it go and got back on topic. "I wanted to ask you how you manage your relationships with other nations, especially since you have to work with them as well."

"I have the advantage of my reputation preceding me," France said lightly. "And of being just a bit more personable. No, I don't think you'll find another nation interested in such a complicated situation, unless your Scandinavian relatives are more adventurous than I surmise them to be." France was almost cruel in the frankness of his appraisal. "Not many nations still have the _naïveté_ required to date someone who is not looking for a partner willingly."

Norway knew that, he knew that he was so desperate to find someone to complete their triad for all the wrong reasons. The truth was, as much as he admired the courage and security of those who had healthy open relationships, he wasn't sure he had those qualities. Beyond that, he knew that in his heart of hearts all he wanted, at least for now, was to be with Denmark. France was right, but he didn't know what would happen if he couldn't fix this.

"There is, of course, always me."

Norway suddenly couldn't stand another minute at that table. "I don't need your pity," his hissed as he made to stand.

France reached across the table and put a hand on Norway's, stopping him from leaving. "I would not offer out of pity, you are far too proud to accept such an arrangement. No, my motives are entirely selfish."

Norway stared at France warily for several long moments, then slid back into his seat. "Curiosity?"

"I prefer to call it a quest for new experiences, but yes."

"I accept," Norway said after a beat. The absence of any churning in his stomach, of any feeling at all, had him cautiously hopeful. Maybe disclosing the situation would be enough not to make it feel illicit. Either way, it was the best opportunity he'd had so far, and he was determined to take it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> French is another language I don't speak! Please forgive me if I made mistakes with it.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Netherlands and his poor, abused tulips.

It probably wasn't fair, Denmark thought, what he was doing to his friend. That's why the first thing he said to Netherlands when he got home was, "Don't you ever have any problems you need help with, Ned?"

"Well, for one, I've come home to find a Dane lying in my flowerbed," Netherlands said dryly.

"I wanted to look at the tulips," Denmark said from his awkward position on the ground, really only managing to get his head into the small square of dirt.

"Did you fall and hit your head when you landed like that?" Netherlands demanded with a hint of concern. "They won't bloom for another month."

Denmark closed his eyes and struggled to swallow, the awkward angle of his neck making the usually unconscious task require concentration. He didn't want to tell Netherlands he imagined he could see them anyway, that would probably result in a hospital visit.

"Come on," Netherlands offered his hand to Denmark. "You're packing the dirt with your giant head."

Denmark took the offered help up, smirking a little as he brushed off his backside the best he could. "You're one to talk."

"Don't see _me_ crushing things with it," Netherlands grumbled, slapping the back of Denmark's coat a few times a little harder than was strictly necessary. When they deemed Denmark to be as clean as he was going to get, he said, "I thought we were going out to get a beer tonight?"

"We were. Are. I don't know." Denmark sighed. "I might not be very good company tonight."

"And you couldn't use the telephone to discuss this with me?"

Denmark shrugged. "Might drink anyway, and beer's cheaper here."

Netherlands frowned. "Alright, come in and tell me what's eating you this time while I get changed."

Denmark followed Netherlands inside and lingered outside the door to his bedroom. "Well?" Netherlands demanded from inside, "You going to tell me or do I have to guess?"

"Uh, yeah, sorry," Denmark said, shuffling awkwardly. He raised his voice a little so it would carry. "Yesterday night Norge just showed up at my front door."

"Is that supposed to be a bad thing?" Netherlands' disembodied voice floated back.

"He was only had a thin shirt on, like he'd just gotten up and run to his car as soon as he had the idea." Denmark frowned at the memory. He had watched Norway carefully for signs of a cough that morning before leaving for work that morning, aware that no matter how resistant they were to serious illness as nations, not even their semi-immortality could beat the common cold.

"Did something set him off?"

"He didn't say, but it's the only thing I can think of. It's kind of driving me to distraction wondering what happened." That lack of concentration was actually how he found himself sent home early to go lay in front of Netherlands' door. His boss, the product of a fairly recent election, seemed to think he was emotionally unstable by nature and had responded by being overly accommodating. It bothered him a little that he was "handled," as if he wasn't made of stuff a thousand times stronger than that, but he had to admit that maybe he hadn't made the best initial impression. He chose to be touched his boss cared so much instead of bother dwelling on the apparently unfavorable impression he'd made and could do nothing to change.

Netherlands was quiet for a minute, though Denmark couldn't tell if it was due to a lack of response or if he was just busy changing.

"Anyway, he kept saying he didn't know how he could live up to how I'd only ever loved him or something. I don't really understand how he could think he's the one not living up to expectations."

"Spare us your lack of confidence," Netherlands said, reappearing in casual clothes. "At least, not while we're still sober."

"It's not my self-esteem, it's the truth," Denmark protested as he followed Netherlands back out of the house. "Even if I hadn't turned out asexual or whatever, it's not like Norge is going to stay with me."

Netherlands stopped dead in the middle of the hall, almost causing Denmark to run into him. "You didn't just say that," he said, utter disbelief written across his feature.

"What? What is so bad about acknowledging reality?" Denmark was starting to get angry.

Netherlands looked at him like he was the biggest idiot on the face of the planet. In an overly patient voice that grated on Denmark's nerves, he said, "What kind of a nation would get into a relationship with another nation, someone who'd controlled them for four centuries, on a whim?"

"I'm not saying he started with the intention of breaking up with me one day--"

"You really piss me off sometimes, Den, you know that?" Netherlands interrupted him, turning back toward the door and heading outside.

"I did warn you," Denmark pointed out sullenly.

"The first round is on you for making me listen to your abandonment issues. Maybe the first _two_ rounds." He locked the door behind Denmark and joined him at the bottom of the steps. "And a round for my poor tulips, who you traumatized."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm lucky to have a friend like you, I know," Denmark said sarcastically. He kicked an imaginary rock down the street.

Netherlands dropped back a step and put a friendly hand on Denmark's shoulder. "C'mon, don't blame the messenger, especially when he's giving you good news."

Denmark scowled pensively, but he began to think that he probably shouldn't get mad at his friend for being honest with him. Even if he was wrong.

"Yeah, okay, let me buy you that beer, then," he said in a conciliatory way. There were worse things than enjoying a night out with your close friend, even if he did make you buy all the drinks.

"That's what I like to hear!" Netherlands clapped Denmark on the shoulder, and they headed together into Amsterdam's glittering night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part takes place concurrently/just after part 19, which were both the day day after part 18 :D


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sweden and Norway are brothers too :D

Things got better and stayed that way for nearly two months. Norway occasionally went to Paris, Denmark spent every moment he could in Oslo, and France had no intentions of visiting Copenhagen, at least not if Norway had anything to say about it. He had compartmentalized his life effectively, and after informing Denmark of his agreement with France, they'd never had a reason to discuss it again. It was almost as if the turbulence of Spring had never happened as Europe welcomed the lazy heat of Summer.

Sluggish from the oppressive D.C. humidity and groggy from jet-lag, Norway was not expecting anything to happen regarding his relationships with Denmark and France. He sipped an iced coffee he'd gotten from a nearby Starbucks as he waited for Sweden to come down to meet him in the hotel lobby so they could go to lunch. They were among the first to arrive for tomorrow's conference, and he was looking forward to sharing a comfortable silence with Sweden, something he rarely got the chance to do thanks to Denmark, Sealand, and Finland never being far away. But today Denmark and Finland's flight wouldn't come in until late afternoon, and Sealand was already in Reykjavik, where they would all be going at the end of the conference; Iceland wasn't going to be in until very early the next morning. He thought for a moment about that upcoming IcelandAir flight, and of sitting between Iceland and Sweden and not having to listen to Finland and Denmark chatter about things for hours, but truthfully he didn't mind so much, even supposing Sweden and Denmark would have gone for it in the first place. He finished his drink just as Sweden came out if the elevator.

"Sorry," Sweden apologized, "Amerika called. Insisted on giving us restaurant recommendations."

Norway rolled his eyes, not the least in part because he did it every time they came to one of his cities. America was too friendly in a way that made Norway slightly uncomfortable.

"Any new ones?"

"No," Sweden said, shaking his head. "Only been a year since I last came."

Norway stood and threw his empty cup in the trash as they left. "Figures. Want to go to the usual place, then?"

Sweden nodded, and they headed for a small Italian restaurant that was near the hotel and one of America's perpetual recommendations. The door was wide open, probably in the hopes of catching a breeze, and it was still fairly crowded for the tail end of the lunch hour.

They were seated deep in the tiny restaurant, a white pillar separating them slightly from the next table over. After ordering, Norway handed the menus to the waitress, and turned back to find himself at the wrong end of one of Sweden's intense stares. Not interested in letting it continue and possibly making innocent bystanders run screaming away, he took a serene sip of his water and calmly asked, "What?

Sweden had never been one for beating around the bush. "You cheating on Danmark?"

The first thought Norway had when he stopped choking on the water was, the next time he saw Denmark, he was going to hurt him. Sweden reached across the table to pat him on the back as he tried to get his coughing under control.

Uncharacteristically, the Swede went on. "You know as well as I do that idiot could never survive you doing something like that to him."

"Sverige," Norway said shrewdly in between coughs, "are you _concerned_ about Danmark?"

Sweden looked away and mumbled something Norway couldn't quite catch, but he knew embarrassment when he saw it. He shook his head in disbelief at how tragically alike Sweden and Denmark were, especially where emotional intelligence was concerned.

"You don't have to worry. I'm not going to betray his trust," Norway said, only slightly peevishly. "I'm a little hurt you think I would."

"Sorry," Sweden said, looking embarrassed again. "I wouldn't've believed it if I hadn't seen you and Frankrike at that EU meeting. The timing fit too well with the rumors."

Norway waved a hand. "Don't beat yourself up about it. Unsurprisingly the person to blame here is Danmark."

Sweden questioned Norway with a raised eyebrow.

"Sorry," Norway said, shaking his head, "but I'm not letting him get out of telling you himself. And apologizing for worrying you ."

Sweden made a face, "Don't tell him I doubted you."

"If he gets angry on my behalf, I'll set him straight. But I suspect the reason he put off talking to you for so long is that he thinks you don't care, so in that way it's your fault too," Norway explained with little inclination toward mercy.

Sweden looked a little sheepish. "S’not like I _mean_ to be unfriendly," he said.

Norway shrugged. He was pretty sure Denmark could read Sweden well enough after this many years to know that fact, but he could also understand why Denmark was waiting for Sweden to open the dialogue, even if it was a hopeless prospect. It seemed, given the current conversation, that maybe they could all worry a little less about Denmark and Sweden’s tense relations, something that was a relief to Norway even if he hadn’t necessarily wanted to be reassured via accusations of dishonesty. "You’ll have plenty of time to talk after this conference. Sealand call yet?"

"No," Sweden said, "he hasn’t been good with remembering things recently. Island sent me an e-mail, though."

Their food came then, and after the waitress had left, he asked after the weary tone in Sweden’s voice, amused. "The trials of being a father?"

Sweden frowned. "He’s been grumpy ever since I told ‘im he couldn’t come with us. Thinks we’re having a great time without ‘im, nevermind I explained this one was too busy to do anything but work and sleep. I know the presentations bore ‘im, but he won’t admit it."

"Hope he doesn’t mention that to Island, he might take advantage and send Sealand in his place," Norway deadpanned.

Sweden chuckled and shook his head. "Pretty sure he’ll enjoy himself just as long as we’re not there to catch ‘im doing it."

Norway imagined Sealand gamboling through Reykjavik, wreaking havoc and laughing, and the image made him smile. Sweden smiled fondly back with a touch of exasperation. They found their comfortable silence and stayed there, enjoying the rest of their meal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a lot of notes!
> 
> Sweden’s speech: I have a lot of Thoughts on Sweden’s speech that could fill many comments, but they basically boil down to: I don’t think writing him speaking with all the vowels missing makes terribly much sense. His accent just doesn’t localize to English very well, and doesn’t Norway speak Tsugaru-ben too? Particularly in this situation I can’t see a reason why Sweden and Norway wouldn’t speak their mutually intelligible native languages to each other. So when I write dialog for Sweden (or Norway or Denmark), I try to keep the lines short and my word choice consistent with historically Germanic words, and I don’t worry about the vowels. *shrug*
> 
> About Hanatamago: In my mind Finland leaves Hanatamago home when he’s going far away or when he has to stay in a hotel overnight, mostly to avoid the restrictions on traveling with pets. Somehow I don’t think “but he’s my semi-immortal familiar” would go over well with customs officers :P I didn’t mention it in part 9, but Hanatamago was there, it just… didn’t come up >.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One disastrous conversation and one productive one.

"Why did you even come, man?" Denmark asked Prussia, leaning forward precariously over his beer. He had started drinking early, trying to get his friends and the alcohol to take his mind off how angry Norway was with him. Not that it was easy to tell with Norway, but the dressing down he'd gotten earlier made it abundantly clear how incredibly disappointed his boyfriend was in him. So far, though, he'd had little luck improving his mood.

"Because he insists on wasting his brother's money," England supplied.

"No," Prussia said derisively over Denmark's laughter. "More like, West's basement is fucking crowded and I can't stand to look at Sachsen's stupid face for another second."

"So why do you get special treatment?"

"Because I'm the only one who works. I'm so awesome, I can help West and still manage my blogs while pwning n00bs on League of Legends. Fuckin' Prussian efficiency," he explained, lifting his glass and toasting himself.

"Germany is letting _you_ help with his work?" England asked incredulously.

"I did teach him everything he knows," Prussia preened. "I'm doing mostly domestic affairs and shit. You should get your brothers to help you, Wales or whatever the hell. Stupid Sachsen runs a shitty sandwich shop."

"You should really try and resolve all those negative vibes with your family," Denmark said, approaching a little too tipsy than was advisable.

"Like you and tall, dark, and terrifying get along," Prussia retorted.

"Don't remind me," Denmark moaned, burying his face in his arm on the bar. "I have to tell him soon or Norge is going to end me."

"Tell him what?" England asked, listing to where Denmark was sitting to his right.

"That I'm asexual."

"What?" England asked, his brow knitting in confusion.

"You're a dinosaur?" Prussia asked with humor.

Denmark let out a long string of colorful curses; this night was just getting better and better. "I wasn't supposed to tell you that."

"What?" England asked again.

Sighing deeply, Denmark explained, "It means I'm not sexually attracted to people."

"To _any_ people?"

"What about animals?" Prussia asked, reveling in schadenfreude.

"No," Denmark said, looking confused.

"You have to have had sex before," England insisted.

"Not even to my five meters?" Prussia asked, unable to hide the laughter in his eyes while fake-sulking.

"Are you sure you aren't sick? Traumatized?" An idea occurred to England, "I always had my suspicions about old Germania."

"Hey, lay off Germania," Prussia protested.

The two of them talking over each other was giving Denmark a headache, and the content of their questions was making him a little queasy. He peeled himself off the bar stool. "Sorry, guys, I'm not feeling so good all of the sudden," he said, giving them a little wave as he slunk away. He didn't pay attention to their called apologies and "hey, come back"s, retreating back to the hotel and into the grand lobby. Unenthused at the prospect of going upstairs and telling Norge what he had done now, he went to one of the plush chairs on the opposite side of the room and sunk into it, slouching and rubbing a hand over his face.

He didn't know how long he sat there, trying desperately to keep his mind blank, when he heard a large group come in from the outside, chattering in the chaotic mix of languages Denmark associated with big gatherings of his fellow nations. Panicking a little, he froze, hoping they wouldn't notice him and expect him to be cheerful. Which was of course when Sweden's gaze locked on his.

"Suweeden-san?" Japan, with whom Sweden had been conversing with, stopped with his friend, giving the Swede a puzzled look. He followed Sweden's line of sight to Denmark. "Ah," he said in understanding, "Well, I'll be going then. Good night." He caught up with the group, forestalling Italy's questions and guiding them into the elevators, leaving the two of them there alone.

Denmark had no intention of losing a staring contest with Sweden, but he thought maybe the best way to do that was to avoid it altogether. He let his head fall back against the top of the plush chair and stared at the ceiling.

"C'mon," Sweden said, deep voice much closer than it had been. Denmark lifted his head and found Sweden standing right in front of him, offering him a hand up.

"I'm not planning on going anywhere," Denmark replied.

"You been drinking?"

Denmark snorted. "Stupid question."

"C'mon," Sweden said again. "Can't just leave you down here alone. You'll get yourself in trouble."

Norway's voice echoed in his head, berating him for worrying Sweden in the same words as earlier that evening. He took Sweden's hand and allowed him to help him to his feet. "Sorry for worrying you."

Sweden got a little flustered. "Told 'im not to tell you that," he mumbled.

Embarrassment took years off Sweden's face, and Denmark couldn't help but smile at how adorable he looked. "But he did anyway."

"We don't need to go making yer ego any bigger," Sweden said with annoyance.

Denmark laughed softly as he followed Sweden to the elevators, and brooded over whether or not he should bite the bullet and tell the other man tonight. He thought darkly on his friends' ability to keep secrets, and wondered how much time he had before the whole world knew.

"You coming?" Sweden asked from their floor, holding the door of the elevator open. Denmark hadn't even realized they'd arrived.

"Hey, Sve," Denmark said, not moving. "I gotta talk to you about something."

"Well do it out here," Sweden said, "Other people have to use the elevator."

Obediently, Denmark exited, and Sweden let the door close. There was a long pause, in which Denmark realized he had no idea what to say or how to say it.

"You can just tell me," Sweden said, trying to be reassuring but not quite managing it.

Denmark shifted awkwardly. "Norge told me what happened earlier," he began, "and you need to know that he and I have an open relationship."

"What?" Sweden asked in disbelief.

"It was all my idea," Denmark said quickly. "Well, maybe not my idea, but my fault. He didn't want to."

Sweden just looked at him, confused.

"I, uh," he said, looking at the ground. "I'm asexual, so he and I don't..." he made an awkward hand gesture, face turning red, "sleep together."

Sweden's expression became unreadable, and Denmark felt himself sink more completely into despair with every passing moment. He thought about running away, but stood his ground, waiting for whatever Sweden would say.

"Thanks for telling me." Sweden finally said, and turned to walk away.

"Huh?" Whatever Denmark had been expecting, it wasn't that.

"Never heard of it," Sweden said, stopping and turning around a few steps away, "so I figure I'd better go look it up so I know how to support you."

"Sverige," Denmark said, touched. "You don't have to--"

"We're family, aren't we?" Sweden interrupted gruffly.

Denmark's shocked expression gradually grew into a brilliant smile. "Yeah, we are," he said in an awed tone as he blinked back tears.

Shaking his head, Sweden gave a slight wave, "Night."

"Night!" Denmark waved after him vigorously, before turning to go back to his room and tell Norway, earlier troubles forgotten. Suddenly, it was a good night to be Denmark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for Prussia's crudeness, but that's how I see him. I favor the theory that the other states from what is now Germany all live in Germany's house, although I'm not sure where the canon ends and fanon begins. I don't know the details of Saxony and Prussia's relationship, more like broad strokes, but... well, let's just say the percentage of Prussia's lines that were straightforward in this part was very low. I'm not sure if he'll be back, despite the role he could play if he was a different kind of guy. This might be England's only appearance, too.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lesson in why you can't tell other nations anything.

Norway was seriously considering doing something drastic to stop himself from dying of embarrassment at Denmark's smothering affections. He had spent all morning suffering Denmark's incredibly good mood, fighting off snuggles as he tried to get dressed, and, memorably, being spun around the room. Even as they left for breakfast, Denmark showed no signs of mellowing, excitedly tugging Norway down the hall towards the elevator by their joined hands.

He was almost relieved to see Finland and Sweden there already waiting for the elevator, as Denmark transferred his grabby attention to Finland.

"Good morning to you too!" Finland said with a smile.

"It's going to be a good day!" Denmark responded, before turning to Sweden and enveloping him in a bear hug. He slapped him on the back a few times while laughing heartily. Norway and Finland shared a look as if to confirm what they were seeing was really happening.

Sweden himself looked shocked as well, but he recovered fairly quickly. "Yeah, yeah," he said, feebly returning the back pats, "c'mon, Island's waiting for us."

"True, true," Denmark said, drifting back towards Norway.

Over Denmark's shoulder, Norway saw Sweden give Denmark a brief, exasperated smile, and he felt a small bubble of jubilation rise in his chest, making him wonder if Denmark was contagious. "We're going down to the lobby," he reminded him.

Denmark just circled his arms loosely around Norway and buried his smile in Norway's hair, humming.

"He still drunk?" Sweden asked.

"Just happy," Denmark answered for himself.

"That's nice," Norway said flatly, "but the elevator's here and I have to move now."

Denmark released Norway and they followed Sweden and Finland into the elevator, Norway making sure to stand close to Finland to avoid being latched on to again. Thwarted, Denmark perched on Norway's shoulder and grinned at him, causing Norway to lean so far back as to nearly knock into Finland.

"What's wrong with you?" he said peevishly, trying desperately to stop his rapidly softening heart from liquidating completely.

"You're cute when you blush," Denmark responded in a dreamy tone.

That was the end of Norway's composure. "Don't say things like that in public!" he said, trying to mask his emotions with anger.

"We're not in public," Denmark protested, "and it's the truth. Nothing wrong with telling you things that are true, right Sve?"

"Right," Sweden nodded, eyes sliding to Finland.

Finland latched onto Norway's other shoulder. "They're going to encourage each other?" he whispered in his ear. "We're doomed."

Norway privately agreed, although he would never give Denmark the satisfaction of hearing it. He reached around Denmark and pinched him hard in the side, getting him to stand up straight just as the bell signifying their arrival at the ground floor chimed cheerfully.

They exited the elevator looking as if nothing had happened, excepting Denmark rubbing his still smarting side. Iceland stood up from where he was waiting and marched directly over to them.

"Your phone is off," he said directly to Denmark.

"It is?" Denmark replied, fishing in his pockets. He pulled it out and pressed a button, lighting up the dark screen. "Must've forgot to turn it back on after leaving the airport."

Iceland didn't look amused. "You need to go back upstairs."

"Huh?"

At Iceland's cryptic warning, Norway looked around and noticed that the other nations milling around were staring at them, some discreetly but some more openly. He turned back to Iceland, slightly alarmed.

"Your secret is out," Iceland said, "and it's all anyone can talk about."

Denmark's phone had woken up enough to begin ringing shrilly, a mountain of text messages all being delivered at once. He began to scroll through them, face losing color.

"No, no, it's okay," he said, voice clearly infused with confidence he didn't actually possess. It was all Norway could do to stop himself from grabbing the phone from Denmark's hand, as though that would protect him.

"We can cover for you," Finland offered, "My presentation's ready, I can go this morning and you can have my slot tomorrow."

"You need to go back upstairs," Iceland said urgently.

Norway felt helpless as he watched emotions play across Denmark's face. He wanted desperately to help, but it was as if his voice had been stolen from him.

"Nah," Denmark said finally, slipping the phone back into his pocket. "I'll go."

"Danmörk," Iceland began.

"I said, I'll go." There was something in Denmark's voice then that Norway hadn't heard for hundreds of years, a tone that brooked no argument. Iceland looked stunned as well. "Anyway," Denmark continued in a much lighter tone, "I think we need to go feed our collective caffeine addiction, am I right?"

Norway snorted. "Who's addicted?"

"You are, Norge," Denmark replied, though without his earlier exuberance. "But that's okay, we all have our vices."

"Funny, I'd say mine was liking you."

Norway felt the others relax as he and Denmark bantered. He was determined to act as normally as possible, even if he was terrified as to what the international community had in store for them on the inside.

Finland grinned, following Norway's lead. "C'mon," he said, "We'd best get in there before the pastries are all gone."

Denmark's expression turned dark as he presumably thought of the last meeting America had hosted. "They're called 'Danishes'," he said in mock grumpiness, "I only think it's fair I should get one."

Iceland rolled his eyes. "They are in English," he pointed out. "I'm still not sure if Bandaríkin1 knows you were just teasing him or not."

"And the cheerful idiots should probably stick together," Norway added in a disinterested tone. He was carefully looking around as they entered the room where breakfast was being held, identifying where the nations who had trouble staying out of other people's business were.

Speak of the devil, America approached them, munching away on a doughnut that had so much frosting and sprinkles it made Norway a little sick looking at it. "Hey guys, how was your night?" They answered indistinctly. "I just wanted to, you know, welcome you and whatever, and also to let you know that we ordered, like, over nine thousand Danishes, so no worries, plenty for everyone."

Denmark smiled apologetically at America. "Thanks, I appreciate it, but I was just teasing you last time."

"Seriously?" America took a bite of the doughnut and shrugged. "Idk, they seem to be a hit, so it all worked out. I love continental breakfasts." He took another bite, and he seemed to get some kind of idea other than going away like Norway was willing him to do. "Hey, are you guys 'continental'?" He looked around at them. "Because, like, there's like that sea or whatever there, so it's kind of, like, peninsula-y, but England always seems to use the term to mean 'anyone not me,' because he has like some kind of superiority complex or something, so—"

"Don’t you have other people you should be greeting?" Norway snapped, unable to stand America’s rambling any longer.

"Sounds like someone hasn't had their coffee yet, geez," America replied, finishing off the doughnut. "Anyway, have a good meeting and stuff!"

As America floated away to talk to other nations, Sweden and Finland headed for breakfast, but Denmark stepped close to Norway. "Norge," he murmured in a half-scolding, half-soothing manner.

Norway had never appreciated being patronized, even though he knew Denmark was right. With every nerve on edge, he could barely stand even Denmark, and held his tongue to avoid saying something he’d regret later. Denmark looked like he wanted to do something sappy and embarrassing like rub circles on Norway’s back, but he knew better than to try; Norway wondered if he was relieved or disappointed about that.

Iceland shoved a cup of coffee at him, breaking into his silent conversation with Denmark. Now that Norway thought about it, he must have slipped away while America was talking to them. He thanked Iceland and took a sip, but he couldn’t even enjoy it when he could feel the eyes of the room on the three of them. He glared at some of them, but there were quite a few countries who he knew wouldn’t find him intimidating.

They stood there as long as they could, Iceland pretending not to care, Denmark pretending like nothing was wrong, and Norway sending out his most prickly vibes, but eventually they had to head in to the meeting. Predictably, all conversation stopped when they entered the room, some nations even having the grace to look vaguely guilty.

Norway hadn't been in the center of any kind of international intrigue since before they had these kinds of meetings, when gossip had to be passed around the old fashioned way one nation at a time. He normally just sat back and looked indifferent, mostly because he was, but this time he couldn't sit things out. Time seemed to expand as Germany hollered for people to stop gawking and get to business, and in those longer than they should have been seconds, Norway came to a decision.

Looking straight ahead with nothing but determination on his face, he strode across the room and around the table, trusting Denmark and Iceland to follow him. When he reached the seat marked for him, however, he didn't sit down. He picked up the placard with his name on it and walked back around the table to where America's haphazard seating had placed Denmark, who was still standing in front of his chair, sharing the same dumbfounded look as most everyone else. "Do you mind?" he said to Argentina in a tone just shy of being a demand.

"No," she said, picking up her own placard and moving to Norway’s old spot. He placed his on the table with just a little more force than necessary and slid into the chair to Denmark’s right, crossing his arms as if bored.

Denmark grinned and sat down, and slowly the other nations followed suit. America, apparently oblivious, got up at the front and began talking.

Norway wasn't particularly aware of how tense he was until Denmark's hand found his under the table, startling him into letting some of the tension out of his body. Denmark wasn't looking at him, focusing instead on the opening remarks in such a way that Norway was sure no one else would notice what he was doing. He squeezed once, as if to say "thanks."

Norway focused on that point of contact, trying to ground himself enough to get past how much he hated being noticed. Returning the squeeze as America wound down and China stood up for the first presentation, he willed himself to focus and take good notes, especially because he would have to share them with Denmark later considering his writing hand was occupied. Forming the letters got less and less effective at fighting the churning in his stomach as China’s turn drew to a close and Denmark got up to prepare his PowerPoint.

"Aren't you worried?" Belgium leaned over and hissed in Norway's ear as soon as Denmark had gone.

Her remark told Norway at least his aloof expression was still intact. "He says he'll be fine."

Belgium didn't respond verbally, but Norway was too busy watching the scene for any potential disruptions to see what kind of face she'd made at him.

"Good morning, everyone. I'd like to begin today—"

"I have a question!" Poland called from somewhere in the back.

Denmark tried to solider on through to his second slide. "As you can see on the chart—"

"Is it true?" After a moment he added, "What? We're all thinking it."

"Uh..." Denmark hedged. Norway prayed he didn’t say anything stupid, although he wasn’t sure what the correct thing to do would be. "Yeah?"

The conference dissolved into chaos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1USA Back
> 
> Danishes are called wienerbrød (Viennese bread) in Denmark (and the rest of Scandinavia), apparently due to it being introduced by Austrian chefs in Denmark. Interestingly, though, they are apparently called "Copenhagen Pastries" in Austria.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Denmark and Norway have a bit of a fight.

"You're sure you don't want me to bring something back for ya? I promise it won't be Mickey-D's."

Norway shook his head from the doorway of his hotel room. "Staying in probably isn't a good idea tonight."

America's expression twisted into a worried frown. "Okay, but don't get lost. You can take a taxi, or you can call me. I'll be up late."

"Thanks," Norway forced himself to say because he really did appreciate the sentiment, even if he couldn't stand the person conveying it.

"Well then, good luck with the whatever happened earlier. I'm gonna dip. See ya!" America left with a little wave, looking back over his shoulder a few times with the little frown.

Norway shut the door with an exhausted sigh and turned inside. "Come on, Danmark!" he called through the bathroom door. "I have to pee!"

Denmark appeared almost immediately. "You do? Sorry."

"No," Norway said, "but you can't hide in there forever."

Frowning a little, Denmark mumbled, "I wasn't hiding," but he came out of the bathroom.

They stood in the little entrance hallway in silence, Denmark looking anywhere but at Norway, and Norway not looking at anything at all. He wondered if he should be angry, or supportive, or just plain tired. "So."

"Yeah," Denmark replied.

"When were you going to going to tell me you'd decided to tell everyone?" Norway tried to keep the accusation out of his voice, but he wasn't quite successful.

"I'm sorry, I just kind of forgot."

"You were too drunk to remember, you mean?"

"No, that's why I told them in the first place."

Norway sighed. "I guess it could be worse; you could have let it slip at a week long conference."

"That's the spirit, Norge! Always look on the bright side."

Norway snorted at Denmark's wide grin. "As long as you're happy."

"Aw, don't be that way," Denmark cajoled.

Norway kept his arms crossed and his face blank.

"It's not like I meant to do it," Denmark said, craning his neck to try and get in Norway's line of sight. "You know I do rash things all the time, it's just the way I am."

"Please stop trying to convince me you're too stupid to be held accountable for your actions," Norway said, swatting at Denmark like he was an insect. "We both know better."

"Did you just say I wasn't stupid?" Denmark stopped hovering and stood up straight.

Passing up sarcasm, Norway looked straight at Denmark, the little spark of anger in his chest making him uncharacteristically serious.

"Look, I'm sorry. But you said I was the one who would have to explain it to people."

"And that means I don't need any warning? It affects me too."

"I told you, it was an accident!"

"And you couldn't have said, 'Keep this under wraps for a little while'?"

"Like that would have worked!"

"You don't know, you didn't try, did you?"

"Because I knew it wouldn't work!"

"You were supposed to tell people responsibly!"

Denmark snorted. "There's no 'responsible' way to tell those guys anything!"

"You at least could have tried!"

"So sorry I embarrass you, Norge."

"That's not what--" Norway stopped abruptly once he actually processed what Denmark had said. Forcing himself to calm down, he said in an even voice, "I'm not embarrassed." Denmark started to say something, but Norway hasted to continue, "I'm not ashamed, either. They can say what they want about us as far as I'm concerned."

Denmark narrowed his eyes, but the anger seemed to dissipate. "Then why are you so concerned about our relationship being a secret?"

"Because, for example, I wouldn't appreciate my boss making snide remarks about us in front of the cabinet."

A hesitant smile made its way onto Denmark's face. "You really hate him, don't you?"

"That would imply he's worthy of spending my time hating," Norway said looking as aloof as possible.

Denmark laughed and put an arm around Norway's shoulders. "My boss might throw us a party, he'd be so relieved to find out I didn't have a mood disorder."

"Debatable," Norway said, not shrugging Denmark off. "I was far more concerned about how you'd take the other's reactions."

Despite phrasing it to make himself sound as indifferent as he could, it was obvious from Denmark's reaction that he had heard the underlying concern loud and clear. "You do care," he teased before turning and embracing Norway. "Sorry," he mumbled into Norway's neck. "I hate it when we fight. I think it's just been a stressful day."

Unable to extract his arms from where they had been crossed in front of him when Denmark hugged him, Norway settled for grunting in agreement.

After a few moments they separated. "I guess we'd better get going, huh?"

Norway nodded.

"Otherwise Amerika is going to come back and insist on chaperoning our date?"

"I really don't understand him," Norway said with a little frown.

"Of course you don't," Denmark joked, holding open the door for Norway and then following him out. "You're polar opposites."

Norway looked back to retort, but something about the way the soft lighting caught the twinkle in Denmark's eye made him forget whatever he had been planning to say. In the drab hotel hallway, tie crooked and hair gone flat, Denmark still looked perfect.

"Norge? Bowled over by my incredible insight?"

Norway snorted, "At the lack, maybe." He grabbed Denmark's hand, walking closely next to him so their sleeves brushed.

"Um," Denmark started.

"Secret's out, we can do what we want." Norway squeezed Denmark's hand. "Idiot," he added affectionately.

"I like it when you're bold. It makes you do that adorable scowl-y blush."

"I'm not blushing!"

"That just made you redder."

"Shut up!"

Denmark's laughter filled the corridor until the elevator doors dinged shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If any of America's dialogue is undecipherable, please let me know. It's just, I happen to have a lot of experience with 19 year old boys from the DC area :P


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We move the story to Reykjavik and the focus to Iceland.

Norway was supposed to be sleeping, but something was keeping him up.

Somehow, Denmark had ended up sitting separately from him on the flight. Normally they responded to the three-three split of seats in the same way every time: Iceland (moodily staring out the window), himself, Denmark (happy to speak for all three of them when the flight attendant came by), and on the other side Finland then Sweden (because the attendant has enough hardship having to deal with Denmark), and Sealand at the other window when he flew with them. It was a comforting routine, like all the rest when it came to his family, and he didn't appreciate when something changed. Therefore, he reasoned, it must be the change that was the source of his bad mood. Norway had never belonged on the aisle; Finland had ended up having to do most of the talking in the end. And it was annoying to see Denmark sit in Norway's seat as if he belonged there, pestering Iceland with his back turned to the empty seat on the aisle that stretched in between them.

Norway interrupted his thoughts, looked up at the ceiling of Iceland's living room, and sighed. He scrubbed his hands over his face and tried once again to go to sleep. Turning on his side, he saw the sunlight leaking in under the curtains and wondered how long he had been laying there, not that sunlight meant much in an Icelandic summer. The little beams were just as annoying as the whispers of unease in his mind denying him his rest.

He lay back on his back, glaring again at the ceiling. He'd gone over their fight from two days previous a million times, but they'd solved it, hadn't they? So why did Norway still feel like there was a strange distance between them? He and Denmark spent plenty of time apart otherwise; they had people to look after and work to do. Why were these five hours any different?

He rolled onto his other side, and blamed the time difference. After their early morning arrival, they had decided to try to sleep until late morning, but it was already late morning at home. Clearly that was the problem.

That wasn't the problem.

Resigning himself to not getting any sleep, he flipped back the covers and crept out of the room so as not to wake the others. He didn't even feel the sluggishness that normally characterized his mornings before coffee, which was annoying in and of itself. While brushing his teeth he decided to have twice as much as usual just to spite his body. The problem had almost been pushed out of his mind until he entered the kitchen and saw the source sitting at the table.

Iceland looked up from feeding his puffin some kind of biscuit, expression mild, not seeming to notice that Norway was frozen mid-step. "Morning." He turned back to the bird.

"Morning," Norway echoed, forcing the tension out of his body. The only way the problem could get any worse was if Iceland were to find out about the feelings that looked suspiciously like jealousy and resentment swirling around his thoughts regarding the younger man. "Sealand didn't want to wait for us?"

Iceland shrugged. "Seems like he made some friends."

Norway hummed thoughtfully. "It must be hard hanging out with us ancients."

"I put up with you," Iceland said, and Norway had to smile.

"You're not a kid," he said, helping himself to some coffee.

"Tell Danmörk."

Forcing the memory of the plane and the accompanying ache in his chest down, Norway decided to lean against the counter just in the periphery of Iceland's vision. "He's just a smothering idiot."

Iceland gave him a sideways glance as if to say he disagreed. "Did you know he calls Grænland once a week to babble at his voicemail?"

Norway did not know that. "I didn't know Grønland had a phone," he said, trying to think back on the last time he had even seen the other nation and coming up blank. There was no love lost between the two of them, and Norway had assumed Denmark's relationship with Greenland was more strained, if anything.

"He actually called me to try and get Danmörk to stop." Iceland rolled his eyes.

Norway snorted. "Like I said, a smothering idiot."

"I told him to pick up the phone next time."

Though Iceland's tone was light, the substance of the sentence brought the humor of the situation to a screeching halt. "You can't mean you don't think Grønland has a right to feel resentful."

Iceland followed Puffin with his eyes as the bird waddled around the table. "No reason to take it out on Danmörk himself."

The world seemed to move out of alignment, and Norway opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. "Island, we exist to have things 'taken out' on us."

Iceland shrugged. "He was there for me much more than his government."

"Maybe you are still a kid," he said cruelly, and regretted it immediately. He had to get himself under control.

"I'm not the one snapping at people for no reason," Iceland shot back.

"I am not," he protested, despite it being the truth.

"You are," Iceland said, turning to actually look at Norway. "Or should I say, just at me."

In the back of his mind, Norway wondered if it was even possible to keep the guilt off his face enough that Iceland wouldn't notice. "Yeah," he said.

"That's all you have to say!?" Iceland demanded, placidity disappearing and anger coming through. "What is your _problem_?" He was out of his chair and took a step towards Norway.

"You don't already know?" Norway replied, putting his mug on the counter with false nonchalance.

"No," Iceland said, coming closer and glaring at Norway. "Forgive me for forgetting that you don't like me."

"What are you talking about, of course I like you."

Iceland snorted derisively. "Then what other explanation to you have? You don't even like it when Danmörk is nice to me." He grabbed Norway's collar.

Norway just glared back, unwilling to incriminate himself. He could almost see the pieces falling into place in Iceland's mind.

"Wait, you think--?" Iceland shook his head, as if the concept was ridiculous. "I think you're a little confused as to which one of you I want attention from."

"What?" Norway said dumbly. He was suddenly aware that Iceland had closed all but the barest of centimeters between them.

Iceland stared at Norway for a long moment, as if he was as stupid as he felt. Then he closed the last of the distance between them.

It was probably the worst kiss of Norway's life, like Iceland was still yelling at him, and he was too shocked to do anything but stand there completely still. Things didn't get any better when he noticed Denmark in the doorway over Iceland's shoulder.

All sound disappeared from the world as Iceland followed Norway's line of sight and turned to look at Denmark, and as Denmark disappeared back down the hall without a word. Norway tried to move, go after him, but Iceland held fast.

" _Noregur_ ," he said, notes of pleading in his voice.

Norway spun back around, the expression on Iceland's face cutting through his anger. "I don't have time--"

"I did that to prove I don't think of you like that, or him. Please, I wouldn't, I didn't mean--"

"Don't worry," Norway said, and it sounded like a promise. Iceland let go, his hand falling limp by his side, and Norway sped out of the kitchen.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jealousy rears its head again.

"Tanska?"

Finland's voice knocked Denmark out of his reverie. When his eyes refocused, he could see in the mirror Finland was still a little groggy, his hand on the light switch.

"Sorry," he said, turning around. "I'm in your way."

"Is something wrong?" Finland subtly moved to block the entire doorway to Iceland's small bathroom, cutting off Denmark's escape.

"No," Denmark said while internally reassuring his conscience he didn't care at all about what he had seen earlier, and so it wasn't a lie.

Finland seemed to be having the same skeptical reaction as his conscience. All traces of his earlier sleepiness had disappeared. Before he could say anything, Denmark was saved by Norway's voice from down the hall.

"Have you seen Danmark?"

Well, maybe not saved. Finland immediately jerked his head in Denmark's direction. "In here."

Norway's expression was unreadable as he came into view over Finland's shoulder. Between his too-blank stare and Finland's suspicious near-glare, Denmark squirmed and tried not to break down.

"'S going on?" Sweden asked around a yawn, coming down the hall and breaking their silent stand off.

"Nothing," Denmark said, seizing his opportunity. He edged towards the door of the bathroom, hoping to slip out sideways. "Finland was just waiting for me to finish, but I'm done. Keep you company while you wait?" Denmark didn't wait for an answer, just slid past Finland and around Norway to begin pulling Sweden back inside. "Norge, you coming?" he added over his shoulder in a carefully neutral tone of voice.

Sweden seemed resigned to humoring Denmark, even if he didn't appreciate being told what to do. Norway, too, seemed peeved at Denmark but still followed them down the hall, leaving Denmark surrounded by icy silence.

When they reached the living room, Denmark busied himself with opening the curtains to let in the sunlight to avoid having to sit between the two of them. If Sweden was aware Denmark was using him as a buffer to keep Norway from mentioning what happened in the kitchen, he didn't show it. It should have worked, giving time for Denmark to show Norway everything was fine by acting normal, but he hadn't counted on Norway discarding his usually fiercely defended privacy.

"Danmark, can I have a word with you?"

"Sure, Norge," he answered lightly.

"In private?" Norway ground out.

Denmark didn't know how to evade that one. "There's not really any place to go," he said. "Maybe it could wait--?"

"If you want to have this out in front of Sverige, that's fine by me."

It didn't look fine by Sweden, who seemed to be trying his best to be invisible.

"There's nothing to 'have out'," Denmark said with a sweet serenity he hadn't known he had possessed.

Norway called Denmark's bluff. "I saw your face in there."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Denmark insisted.

"That's not what it looked like."

"It doesn't matter what it did or didn't look like, I'm telling you I don't care."

Norway took a deep breath, and his next words were low and serious. "What if I wanted you to care?"

Denmark hesitated, not sure if it was a trick question or not. "Why would you want that?"

"Maybe so I could stop feeling inadequate about being the only fallible human being in this relationship!" Norway raged. He picked up a pillow and threw it at Denmark. "Stop pretending to be so damn perfect and tell me the truth!"

"I heard yelling," Finland said from the doorway, toothbrush still in hand. Sweden took the opportunity to escape, pulling Finland away with him.

Norway hadn't broken eye contact with Denmark, challenge written into every tense line of his body. Denmark tried his pitch his voice to a soothing tone.

"You're right, I was jealous," he said, then hastened to add, "But it's under control now, and I promise I'll do better, so--"

"You just don't get it at all, do you?" Norway said, and Denmark braced himself. "Island and I were only fighting because I was jealous of him."

"Huh?" Whatever Denmark had been expecting, it wasn't that. "Why would you be jealous?"

Norway made a frustrated noise and slapped the hard back of the couch. "I'm not proud of it."

"I don't understand."

Norway looked back up, and the vulnerability in his eyes made Denmark's heart ache. "You have a lot of friends," he said jerkily, as if each word cost him something, "and you're especially close to Island, you tell him things you would never tell me. It's different between us, I know it is, but there's a little part of me wondering what you need me for if you have all them."

Conflicting emotions swirled in Denmark's chest, paralyzing him. He didn't know whether to assure Norway his fears were unfounded, or lash out in anger, or hate himself for not seeing it before Norway had to tell him. "I know what you mean," Denmark finally admitted. Norway's head shot up in surprise. "I've been trying not to think about it, but seeing you with Island..." Denmark shook his head. "I couldn't put it out of my mind anymore."

"You could have told me."

"You could have told _me_."

Norway sat down heavily. "No, I couldn't. Island thinks we hate him."

Denmark's brow knit. "That's ridiculous." He joined Norway on the couch.

"Not to him." After a moment Norway knocked his shoulder gently into Denmark's. "What are we going to do?" The picture he made, looking up as if the ceiling held the answers, made Denmark's chest tighten again.

"I don't know," he answered honestly. "Sort things out with Island, have a good weekend, think about Monday when Monday comes?"

Turning to Denmark, Norway gave him a sarcastic smile. "Great plan. I can see why they used to call you the King of Scandinavia."

"Show me where to hit them, and I promise you I will cut our relationship troubles clean in two."

"Bike it to death, more like."

"Bicycle accidents can be very dangerous, Norge, don't joke!"

Norway buried his face in Denmark's arm, to hide a smile, he hoped, although he honestly wasn't sure. "Hey. We'll figure this out."

There wasn't any reply, although Denmark wasn't really expecting one. In place of words, Norway laced his fingers with Denmark's. They sat there in silence for a few moments, before Denmark lightly slapped his knee.

"C'mon, we'd better go inside."

As they headed for the kitchen, Norway's expression was as blank as ever. They came in to Finland rubbing a worried looking Iceland's back.

Iceland shot up from his seat as soon as he saw them, going around Sweden to stand in front of the table. He regarded the both of them warily, as if he wasn't sure what to expect.

Without a word, Norway opened his arms wide, and just as silently, Iceland went, nearly knocking the wind out of him with the force of his hug. Norway held him close, with one hand on the back of his head like one would hold a child.

Denmark put his arms around both of them, sandwiching Iceland between them. After a moment, he turned to Finland and Sweden, still at the table. "Don't be shy," he said with a grin.

Finland answered with a grin of his own and wasted no time crossing the kitchen. Sweden was a little slower, looking distinctly embarrassed, but let Finland and Denmark pull him in when he got close enough.

Denmark tried his best to memorize everything about it, even though he knew he never could. A little voice in the back of his head said clearly he needed to do everything in his power not to lose this, and he emphatically agreed. He began to form a plan and held his family closer; he was in no hurry to let go.


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Monday.

"It's Monday." Norway's voice was tinny over the line.

"Hello to you, too," Denmark said, sneaking a glance at his watch. As he thought, it was too late for lunch break but too early to go home. "It is a lovely afternoon, even for those of us who have work to do."

Norway snorted as if skeptical any work was ever done in Copenhagen, and Denmark imagined him twirling the cord around his finger in affected boredom like he used to when phones still had cords.

"Boss late again?"

"I'm thinking of running for parliament and usurping him to become prime minister myself; if nothing else, it would be faster than waiting for him to show up to meetings."

"I dunno, Norge," Denmark replied mischievously. "Is Norway ready for a leader who refers to the Storting as 'the idiot gallery'?"

"I'd be the refreshing breath of honesty the public has been yearning for in their politicians."

As Denmark's chuckle tapered off, the conversation lapsed into silence. He got up and pushed the door to his office closed, wondering how Norway possibly felt comfortable calling him about this when he was expecting his boss at any moment. "So."

"So," Norway replied.

"I guess putting it off didn't actually help."

Norway made a neutral sound.

"I'm glad we had the weekend, though. Especially Sverige's face when Sealand tried to introduce us to his friends."

"We're lucky his friends thought it was a joke, 'Uncle Mark.'"

"At least he sort of caught himself, 'Uncle Norm,'" Denmark teased back.

"We're avoiding the subject," Norway said quietly.

Sighing overly dramatically, Denmark leaned back in his chair. "Yeah."

"I thought we solved this problem."

"So did I. I guess we'll have to keep trying."

"And if it never goes away?"

Denmark didn't want to think about that. "It will."

There was a long pause. "I don't think we can keep going like this."

Even though he'd been expecting Norway to say something similar almost since their first date, now that he actually had, Denmark found himself completely unready. "We can make this work, I know we can," he said, blindly spitting out the first thing that came to mind.

"Not if we're going to keep fighting over nothing," Norway said. "We're clearly doing something wrong."

"I have a plan," Denmark said, the words tripping over each other.

"Oh?" There was interest under Norway's skeptical tone.

"Yeah, but it's--"

"Shit," Norway swore under his breath. "My boss actually showed up. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah," Denmark said, stomach twisting. "Norge?"

"Hm?"

"Don't worry, I'll fix it, I promise." He could hear the question in Norway's silence, but he didn't have time to explain his decision. "See you tomorrow."

"Bye," Norway said, though he sounded unhappy. Denmark wondered if that was his fault or Norway's boss's. Either way, Denmark felt that his time was up. If he didn't do something, he'd lose Norway for sure, and he swore to himself he would do what was necessary to avoid that, no matter what.


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Denmark has a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains mild sexual content that might make readers, especially ace readers, uncomfortable.

When he arrived home that Tuesday, Norway set down his briefcase and followed the banging of pots and pans into his kitchen. "Hey."

"Hey!" Denmark's smile wasn't strained in the least as he greeted his boyfriend.

Norway hung back in the doorway, concerned Denmark was a little _too_ carefree. "You're early," he said, trying to keep his expression as neutral as possible.

The change in Denmark's expression was so minute, even Norway almost missed it. "I convinced my boss to let me go early," he said with the false nonchalance that indicated he was twisting reality to fit the facts he'd decided on. "He'll come around to the joy of baking eventually."

Looking closer, Norway noticed a streak of flour on Denmark's work shirt, and the cuffs of his shirt were damp, as if he'd forgotten to roll his sleeves up before starting on the dishes. "You just had the uncontrollable urge to come to my house and make a cake?" he said, raising his eyebrows and mentally doing the math of just how early Denmark would have had to leave to get to Oslo in time to finish by the time he expected Norway home.

"You know how it is, sometimes you just get _urges_ , and you have to stick some pastries in the oven. Or, in your case, some frozen pizza."

Narrowing his eyes in a way that made it clear to Denmark that he was lucky he was all the way across the room, Norway nearly forgot the strangeness of the situation. "That's called 'hunger,' idiot."

Denmark just laughed, and Norway returned to wondering why Denmark had come so early. Surely he had plenty to catch up on between last week's conference and the one next week; Norway had stayed a little late himself for that very reason. It unnerved him he couldn't figure out what Denmark was thinking.

"Speaking of," Denmark said, "Go change into something comfortable. I made us a picnic dinner." At Norway's expression, he added, "Don't give me that look, we have plenty of sunlight left, and you like being outside."

Thinking for a moment, Norway decided to go along with whatever it was Denmark had planned. He went upstairs to change, and when he came back down Denmark had as well, looking vibrant in the red he so favored as he waited in the hall near the door. When Norway came near, he didn't pull Norway into his arms like he normally would have, leaving Norway feeling antsy at being home for so long without a kiss in greeting. He had been careful not to touch Denmark without clear indication it would be welcome ever since the revelation of Denmark's asexuality added a layer of blurriness to their already fuzzy boundaries, but things like quick kisses had never been questioned before. Taking in Denmark's awkward stance, hands close together on the handle of the basket he'd borrowed to put dinner in, tension in his shoulders, it looked like he was waiting for Norway to let _him_ know it was okay. Annoyed, he pulled Denmark down to meet him in a deep kiss, and only let him go when he was sure Denmark was as breathless as he was.

It seemed to break the tension, and Denmark laughed a little in staccato bursts. "Shall we?"

They traveled in companionable silence, giving Norway a chance to study Denmark out of the corner of his eye and speculate as they swayed in time with the rhythm of the train. It wasn't long before they arrived, Denmark setting out the sandwiches he had made and Norway feeling like he was still a few steps behind. It was nice to be outside, at the very least, and he listened to Denmark's chatter with good-natured interest, mellowing in the comfortable atmosphere. They lingered after they finished eating, hands joined between them, Norway leaning against Denmark's shoulder.

"This is nice, isn't it, Norge?" Denmark said after a few moments of silence.

"Yeah," Norway replied, nearly sighing in contentment.

"It's nice being normal like this, right?"

"Yeah," Norway said, thinking wistfully for a moment of being a regular person for a moment, of how he and Denmark could move in together, spend every night together instead of just the ones before days Denmark didn't have any morning meetings. To not have hundreds of years of messy history between them, or 200 nosy colleagues they'd be stuck with for the rest of eternity. He knew if actually given the choice, he wouldn't give up the life he had, but it was fun to pretend even just for an evening.

"No one would look at us and think we were anything other than a normal couple." Something about the sentiment seemed to cheer Denmark up, and he broke the sedate atmosphere by whirling around and hugging the stuffing out of Norway. "Normal is good," he murmured against Norway's hair.

Norway returned the embrace as best he could, trying to ignore the fact that his confusion had returned. "Normal is fine," he said, and he felt like he was reassuring Denmark, although he had no idea what about.

"C'mon," Denmark said after a few moments. "I brought a movie with me, too. I heard it's good."

"Dinner and a movie," Norway said with dry humor as he began packing away their dishes, "You spoil me."

"Anything for you," Denmark said, giving him a quick peck on the temple.

Norway snorted, but didn't hide the smile that pulled at the corners of his lips. Denmark's eyes danced in delight when he noticed.

The movie turned out to be incredibly sappy, as they found out on Norway's couch after they'd returned and washed the dishes. It didn't really hold Norway's interest, but Denmark seemed to like it, so much so that Norway caught him wiping away a tear as the protagonists got their happy ending and the credits rolled.

"I saw that," he said playfully.

"Saw what?" Denmark said, even as he wiped a large hand under his eye.

Norway reached up and brushed his thumb under Denmark's other eye, smirking when he encountered moisture. "You're crying."

"But it was so beautiful," Denmark said, abandoning all pretense of stoicism in the face of Norway's evidence. "I was rooting for the heroine agonizing in secret about how much she wanted to be with him even though she was too embarrassed to say it to his face. She reminded me of someone I know." Denmark's grin dared him to read between the lines.

"You--!" Norway said, pouncing on Denmark. He fought back, fingers dancing over Norway's sides, making him squirm as he ineffectually tried to get Denmark's smug look to crack.

Denmark reversed their positions, pushing Norway against the arm of the couch and using his newfound leverage to finally make Norway laugh.

"Stop, stop," Norway said breathlessly, struggling for air. "You win."

The tickling did stop, but instead of sitting up, Denmark flattened his hands against Norway's sides. He grinned down at him for a moment before leaning down and saying in Norway's ear, "I love your laugh," nuzzling at his neck affectionately.

Norway put his hands on Denmark's shoulders, trying to give him a subtle hint to let him up. "Good thing I don't do it very often. I wouldn't want to spoil you." Denmark hummed and just kept ghosting kisses on Norway's face. "Danmark," he said with fond exasperation.

Moving back, Denmark looked straight at him. Something in his eyes pinned Norway to the spot as he said with unusual gravity, "I love you."

It was different from all the times he had said it before, and it made Norway uneasy. He pulled Denmark down into a kiss, trying to erase the strange tension. "Me too," he said quietly after they broke apart, foreheads resting against each other. He wondered if this was the part where they finally discussed how their relationship was falling apart around them, even as they tried desperately to keep it together.

Denmark seemed to have a different idea. Pouring all his concentration into passionate kisses, he stole any attention Norway could have devoted to questioning what he was thinking. Norway lost any sense of time, his entire world focused in on Denmark as one hand found its way into Denmark's wild hair, the other resting in the small of his back. He didn't consciously notice the hands on his waist dipping under the hem of his shirt until Denmark's fingers left trails of burning nerve endings in their wake as the skimmed up over his ribcage. He arched into the touch and tried not to think about how strongly he was reacting to his lover's hands against his bare skin when he didn't dare touch him back, not that it was difficult not to think as he was swept away by Denmark's intensity in kissing him.

Bringing a hand up to cup Norway's cheek, Denmark breathed, "It's okay." Norway didn't quite understand, but he caught on when Denmark touched the hand on his back lightly. "It's okay."

Hesitantly, as if waiting for permission to be revoked at any moment, Norway ran hand up Denmark's chest and was answered with another enthusiastic kiss. He didn't question why it was suddenly alright; maybe it had been alright the whole time and Norway had been holding himself back too much. Either way, he returned as good he got, feeling triumphant when he found a spot on Denmark's neck that made him shudder.

As much as he enjoyed what they were doing, the spark of doubt came screaming to the forefront when fingertips brushed his waistband, and all the jagged edges of the strange events of the night began to fit together to form a horrifying picture.

"What are you doing?" Norway asked, not even trying to hide his dismay, praying he was mistaken.

He was answered with a hard look. "Being normal."

Norway pushed Denmark away and wiggled his way up off the couch, desperate for space. "But--" he started, not sure what to say or where to begin.

Denmark rushed to fill the silence. "I can do this, I know I can, just let me try. Yesterday... I swore to myself I'd end this the moment you said the word, but actually hearing you say it made me realize, I'm not ready to let you go. I'll do whatever I have to to make you happy." Still mute in shock, Norway took an involuntary step backwards. "I've become such a coward, but I'll be stronger from now on, I promise."

A nauseated feeling welled up and spread in Norway's stomach. "What kind of person do you think I am?" he demanded. "You think I'd sleep with someone who doesn't want to sleep with me?"

"But I _do_ want to." Denmark reached out, not quite touching Norway's hand, not flinching when the other pulled his arm back anyway.

All the things Norway wanted to scream were getting jumbled in his head, gradually making the world unbearable. Staring into Denmark's wide eyes, he wondered why he hadn't noticed the steely determination under the cheerful warmth.

It was so tempting to just take Denmark's offer, give a normal relationship another try, and that's what made Norway the most upset. Disgust at himself intensified the weight at the bottom of his stomach. Why hadn't he left well enough alone? Then they would still be best friends instead of this unbearable brittle other, something that threatened to shatter at any moment. It was almost worse to have a taste of what he wanted knowing he could never actually have it.

Suddenly everything was suffocating. He couldn't trust himself not to give in, and he knew he'd never forgive himself if he did. He couldn't stay there another second, he needed to go away, somewhere he could _breathe_.

He didn't notice until later, but Denmark didn't come after him as he fled the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is now art for this chapter from [Keeri-chan](http://keeri-chan.deviantart.com/art/Think-of-Me-273160933#/") over at DeviantArt! :D!


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first of two telephone calls.

A week later, and life had returned to some facsimile of normal for Denmark. He went to work, came home, drank some beer, read another chapter in his novel, and went to sleep ready to do it again the next day. His boss hadn't frowned and told him to go home to bed since he'd come back from Oslo. It was like falling into an old routine, the one from before Norway had turned to him, eyes bright with the reflection of the candles in the December darkness, and asked if he wanted to go on a date.

Part of him, though, was keeping up the fiction that nothing had changed. He didn't answer his phone during times he should have been in Oslo, and he played his many friends off each other, using them as excuses to decline invitations or explain cutting a phone call short. As long as they didn't compare notes, Denmark could avoid dealing with their reactions to him screwing things up with Norway.

Playing with the condensation on his glass, he idly contemplated how long it would take before he and Norway could laugh this off as the failed experiment it was. Probably longer than this week.

His head dropped to rest on his arm. The hand that had been playing with his beer moved to his mobile phone, spinning it in circles as he argued with himself over whether or not to call Finland.

Finland probably deserved some warning, he thought, especially because once they all showed up in Helsinki tomorrow, he would probably have his hands full orchestrating the conference.

On the other hand, the Finn would probably worry himself silly, and he didn't need any more stress on top of hosting their meeting. Maybe, Denmark thought optimistically, he would be so busy with the preparations that he wouldn't notice, nevermind they were staying at his house.

Sighing, he flipped the phone open and pulled up Finland's number.

"Hello?" Finland always answered with the same polite tone, and Denmark smiled a little at how he had apparently never taken to caller ID.

"Hey, Fin," he said, with more warmth in his tone than he'd thought himself capable of at the moment.

"What's up, Tanska?"

Denmark chuckled. "I need your advice."

"Hm?"

"If I had something to tell you that might upset you, would it be better to tell you now, or let you find out for yourself when you see me tomorrow?"

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line, and Denmark wondered if it was his fault. "I guess I would tell me now," Finland finally answered, and Denmark could practically hear him bracing himself. _Just the latest tragedy in the problem child's personal drama,_ he thought sardonically. _At least this should get me out of his hair for a little while._

"I screwed things up with Norge," he said. "He probably never wants to see me again, which I unfortunately can't oblige, but maybe if he beats me up some he'll be able to stand being in the same city as me." His voice was even, frank in its assessment of the situation, as if he had just been describing how they'd started organizing the office supplies to be more efficient. After a moment without a response, he said, "Finland?"

"Sorry, I just don't know what to say."

Denmark shrugged, even though he knew Finland couldn't see him.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"He's hated my guts before."

"That's not what I asked," Finland said sharply.

"Don't worry about me," Denmark responded. "I don't want to make you take sides, but if you have to, take his. You can tell Sverige the same."

"Tanska," Finland protested.

"I'll let you go."

"Tanska!"

Denmark snapped the phone shut and went back to drawing shapes in the moisture left by the humid summer air.


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second telephone call.

The ringing of the phone was jarring in the silence of Norway's house. He made no move to answer, but when the caller rung back immediately again, he lifted his head enough to see who it was.

"Finland," he said, deciding he should probably take the call even though he really, really didn't want to.

"Norja, are you--? Did you--? Are things--?"

Norway held back a sigh. "You talked to Danmark, I see."

There were a few moments of silence, presumably as Finland struggled to articulate his concern.

"He said the two of you had a falling out," Finland said slowly, and Norway internally winced at his transparent efforts to be as neutral as possible. It has to be tearing him up inside to have the thing he would normally maim for causing his family heartache be another member of his family. "He said—never mind what he said. Are you alright?"

Norway pondered all the possible answers to that question, from "it could be worse" to "not even an iota." No matter what the answer, Finland wouldn't like it. He let the lack of a response speak for him.

"Oh _Norja_. I'd come over right now if I could, but with the meeting..."

"It's fine." Norway said gruffly, confused but unwilling to let Finland worry. Why would Finland want to come and comfort _him_?

"Ruotsi could probably come if you needed--?"

"I don't," Norway cut him off a little harshly, and immediately regretted it. "I don't need help sitting here hating myself."

"What exactly happened?" Finland asked cautiously as a beat, and Norway began to doubt Denmark had told Finland the truth about the other night.

"I don't want to talk about it," he said, wondering if he had any right to say that when this mess was his fault. "And Danmark is the one you should be on the phone comforting."

"I tried calling back, but it went directly to voicemail." The warning to Norway not to do the same was implicit.

"Then there's nothing you can do, so stop worrying about it."

"Excuse me for caring about the two of you."

Norway refused to get in a fight with Finland even as he refused to tell Finland what happened and put into words what a horrible person he was. "You're busy. Go do what you have to do for tomorrow."

Finland fumed for a few moments. "Fine. Travel safely tomorrow."

A faint prick of amusement at how Finland worried even when angry softened Norway's tone just the slightest bit. "Good night."

After hanging up, he let the hand holding the phone drop to dangle off the side of the couch. He wasn't looking forward to tomorrow.


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot of yelling.

The tension in the air was palpable as the six of them set up for the conference the next morning. Even Sealand seemed to sense something was wrong and set out the materials folders without his usual chatter. Norway had been careful to avoid Denmark, not that he wasn't sure Denmark was avoiding him. Though he'd had a week to think about it, he still wasn't sure how he felt, and before a big meeting probably wasn't the best time to put his unreliable temper to the test.

It didn't help that Finland seemed to be angry at both of them as well. He was usually a moderating influence, and neither Sweden nor Iceland was likely to step in and make up for it. Maybe Norway had gone too far the night before, but he also wasn't planning on apologizing and being the one to break the silence.

The choice was taken out of his hands, though, as they began to finish the set-up. "Refreshments?" Sweden gruffly asked Finland.

"Yeah," Finland nodded in agreement. "Take Tanska with you to help carry things."

"I can carry things too!" Sealand said eagerly.

Sweden gave his son a tiny smile, "'Course you can. C'mon Dan."

Denmark didn't hesitate, walking quickly out of the room. Iceland looked between the two groups for a few seconds before apparently deciding to follow Sweden as well. Norway wondered if he had been part of the conspiracy as well, or if he'd just been able to read Finland's intentions.

Sure enough, after shuffling some papers long enough to make sure they were all really gone, Finland spoke, just a hint of annoyance tingeing his no-nonsense tone. "So, Norja, have you decided if you're going to tell me so I can help you fix this?"

Norway glared, but aside from the fact that Finland was right, it wasn't like he could intimidate anyone used to Sweden. "Danmark had a stupid idea in his head, and I almost went along with it."

Finland's brow knit. He opened his mouth, but Norway truly wasn't interested in sharing more detail, so he cut him off.

"So I'm angry at myself," he continued, "because he must have gotten the idea from me."

"You're not angry at Tanska?"

"A little." Norway watched Finland's expression cycle into frustration and a hint of pity, and he could guess what the Finn was thinking. "That's not what Danmark told you?"

Finland exhaled and smiled sheepishly. "How'd you know?"

Norway just shook his head in exasperation. "I don't know what I was thinking. We've never been well matched."

It was Finland's turn to shake his head. "What are you talking about? You've always been perfect compliments for each other."

Something in Norway's gut twisted at that remark. It made them sound inevitable, fated, and that thought made him deeply uncomfortable. He pushed down the feeling. "We're fighting every other day."

"That's how you show affection," Finland insisted. "Don't pretend you're not self-aware enough to know that."

"Not this time," Norway snapped, unable to stand the squirming in his stomach any longer. "I'm going to go help Sverige." He turned and left the room without waiting for an answer, needing a moment to himself.

After a week on his couch, thinking out everything from every angle, he still didn't have an answer, and Finland thought he could solve in five minutes? It was too much pressure. Their family, their history, their personalities, everything led to the conclusion that it was too big a gamble for them to date. Why hadn't he seen it _before_ he'd opened this Pandora's box?

If Denmark hadn't been yelling, he might have walked right past, he was so absorbed in his inner tirade.

"—wants to hear your 'theories'," Denmark snarled against derisive laughter. "They're not true."

"What's going on?" Norway demanded as he came around the corner, anticipating petty bickering with Sweden, surprised instead to find Denmark staring down three other nations, eyes wild. He didn't even register who they were, as they disappeared soon after Norway spoke, and he was too transfixed by what he saw in the lines of Denmark's body. When he saw Norway, his facial expression changed, but the desperation was still in his shoulders, the rage still in his legs.

"Norge," Denmark said, and he sounded caught, as if Norway wasn't supposed to know he was nearly coming to blows with other nations. Sure enough, Norway's first reaction was to get angry, but as his mind struggled to make sense of the situation, he began to think this wasn't Denmark picking a fight because he was a hot-headed idiot.

Phrasing the question as specifically as possible was difficult, but it was the best way to ensure his question wouldn't be sidestepped. "You didn't start that?"

"No," he answered.

"They were harassing you?"

"Yes," he admitted more reluctantly.

"About your personal life?"

Denmark's eyes slid to the side, and Norway didn't need to hear him say it to know the answer. His hands curled up into fists as he tried not to lose it at Denmark in the hallway. Once the initial impulse to yell was under control, he looked around and noticed a doorway across the hall. "In there," he ordered, trusting Denmark to follow him and praying the office was unoccupied.

Norway waited until he heard the door click shut behind Denmark to turn around and face him, channeling all his anger into courage. "Was this the first time?"

The whole story was written in the hesitation in his eyes and the defiant line of his mouth. "In person," Denmark said grudgingly.

Fear squeezed his heart a little tighter as he flashed back to the lobby in Washington. "The text messages."

Denmark nodded.

"What do they say?"

"It depends. Some are just curious."

"And some clearly aren't," Norway pressed.

Letting his head fall, Denmark deflated, no longer even looking in Norway's direction. "It's not important," he insisted.

"Like hell it isn't." Norway was so fed up with Denmark keeping things from him in a misguided attempt to protect him. "You do things like this all the time, and I'm sick of it!"

"Like what?" Denmark shot back. "You don't even know what you're asking!"

"Like..." Norway frantically tried to remember a time when Denmark had actually stubbornly refused to answer him; for all his white lies, he usually came clean when he was caught. "Like when we never have family gatherings at your house, and you pretend not to hear when someone asks why," he said quickly, savoring his petty victory.

Opening his mouth and closing it again when it turned out he had no retort, Denmark looked truly spooked by the question. "There are some things you keep to yourself," he grumped under his breath.

Norway honestly hadn't ever thought much of it, but Denmark's attitude piqued his interest. "Even from me?" he asked, trying not to betray his surprise at finding out there was an actual reason behind Denmark's actions.

The look he got in response, however, turned curiosity into worry. "Especially from you," it said.

"Danmark," Norway pressed, concerned and rapidly losing patience, "Why don't you ever invite us to your house?"

"It's stupid," Denmark said, not meeting Norway's eyes. "You'll get angry at me."

"I already am!"

Denmark flinched but remained silent.

"Stop keeping secrets from me," Norway implored him.

"It's just--" Denmark began hesitantly, before blurting in a stronger voice, "what if you never got there?"

Norway didn't know what to make of that and grasped at whatever he could think of. "You mean, you're afraid we'll be in traffic accidents?"

"No," Denmark said.

"Then what!?"

"Like you all just didn't come. Like maybe you didn't want to, or you forgot."

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

"I know, right?" Denmark said with a watery smile. "I just can't help worrying you'll leave me again."

Anger flared in Norway again. "When," he said slowly, "did I ever leave you?"

Denmark just sat there dumbly, unable to respond.

"You mean when I was a _pawn_ in yours and Sverige's feuds, is that what you mean?"

"Norge," Denmark tried to break in, "I didn't--"

"Færøyene is still with you, if not physically. Grønland has always hated you, but England's your drinking buddy now. Finland didn't have a choice, and Island _defended you_ to me the other day." Norway shook his head in disbelief. "Take it up with Sverige if you have to, but leave the rest of us out of it."

"As if you never slammed the door in my face," Denmark shot back.

"We all have to do what's best for our people."

"And that's why I don't invite you to København," Denmark roared. "Because I don't want you to think 'I wonder if he's trying to control me again.'"

"That's silly," Norway snorted.

"Is it?" Denmark demanded. "Because somehow people seem to have a hard time grasping that this has only ever been about me loving you," he said, gesturing to the door.

"That's what they were saying?" Norway blurted, finally understanding.

Denmark clammed up, clearly having given away more information than he'd intended. Something about the fierce expression on his face obscuring the vulnerability in his eyes made Norway think maybe it was starting to get through, that maybe he could convince Denmark to stop keeping things like this to himself. Closing his eyes for a moment, he forced his mood to change.

"Are we in this together or not?" He spread his arms wide. "Let me help."

Norway wished he could hear Denmark's thoughts as it finally seemed to be sinking in, but he could do nothing but wait and watch the internal argument play out on Denmark's face. "It's upsetting," he finally said, and relief flooded Norway.

"Don't care. Tell me."

"At first it was really just petty jabs at my masculinity, which didn't bother me at all," Denmark said, still looking anywhere but Norway's eyes. "But I guess people started speculating as to why you would stay with me, and some of them are pretty... rude." Norway waited patiently for him to continue. "Most of them have to do with accusing me of abusing you so much that you've been Stockholmed into loving me. Some of them say that you're using me because I'm there, or that you're planning on breaking my heart as revenge." He shook his head. "It's not true, I know it's not, but it's like they can't even imagine us being in love if we're not sleeping together." Norway still didn't interrupt, sure there was more. "And you were unhappy." Denmark's gaze flicked up to Norway, the back to the floor. "So I thought, maybe I could use the theory that I was just sick."

"You were going to lie to everyone, or you started believing it was true?" Norway asked, refusing to pretend Denmark's actions were anything other than what they were.

"I don't know."

"Okay," Norway said, beginning to pace. He needed a minute to think, and the repetitive motion was soothing. This cast a different light on the events of last week, even if he couldn't absolve himself completely just yet. It wasn't like nations morbid and inappropriate tendencies when gossiping were news to him; he wasn't innocent of that either. Denmark had told him the full truth for a change, and if he could just seize the opportunity-- "Is there anything else at all you're not telling me?"

Denmark mock-thought for a moment. "What people have been saying behind our backs, my deepest darkest fears, and my complex about our history... Nope, I think that's about it."

Norway tried to make a displeased face, but he was so giddy with relief that he couldn't manage it.

"Is that a smile?" Denmark teased, starting to look a little manic himself.

"Shut up," Norway said, but there was nothing behind it. "Why are we laughing? This is a serious problem."

"I think I have an idea," Denmark said, twinkle back in his eye. "Want to write a new treaty?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please forgive my oblique historical references – I tried to do the research as much as possible, but I had a lot of ground of cover, so please tell me if you spot something incorrect. (For the record, Norway did kind of jump to conclusions about what Denmark was saying, but.)
> 
> Another note: "to Stockholm" is the verb meaning "to induce Stockhom syndrome in," which is not a real word, but sounded better to me. Cursory research (read: Wikipedia) suggests verbing is legal in Swedish, so my gut says "go for it" :D


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tying up some loose ends.

Denmark considered the sky through the window as he wandered out the last of his meetings for the day. He hoped the weather would hold, seeing as he probably still had two or three hours' work left. Sighing, he trudged toward his office, resigned to watching the sunset from his desk. Head bowed, he didn't notice someone was waiting for him.

"I expected more tchotchkes."

"Norge!" Standing behind his desk was Norway, unannounced and unexpected. He was rifling through the papers that had previously been in neat stacks, although he seemed to share Denmark's opinion of the documents, his trademark bored expression in place. "What are you doing here?"

Norway produced a portfolio with the hand that wasn't destroying Denmark's filing system. "From my boss to yours."

"He sent you?" Denmark asked skeptically.

"I volunteered."

"You did your boss a favor?" That statement was even more unbelievable than the last.

"I did my boss's _aides_ a favor, and it wasn't much of one anyway. I would have gone to _New_ Zealand if it meant not having to stare at that idiot any longer."

"So this visit is just business then?" Denmark smirked, casually shutting the door with his shoulder.

Walking around the desk and leaning slightly back against it, Norway made a show of thinking it over. "Well, I suppose I did come all this way. There's no point in wasting all that effort."

"No, I suppose not," Denmark agreed, crossing the room. He put his hands on Norway's hips, pulling him slightly from side to side as he swayed happily. "Hey."

Norway looked up at Denmark, appearing to be annoyed at being manhandled, but darting up to give him a peck a moment later.

Denmark chuckled and knocked their foreheads together, not bothering to worry about the work that was now probably scattered across his desk, but savoring the little bit of calm that had returned to their relationship.

Part of him had wondered if a new set of rules was really the right way to solve things when he'd proposed it a few weeks back, but they had had turned out to feel more freeing than restrictive. Even though they seemed like they should be common sense, having it in black and white made him feel like he was able to better concentrate on them, or at least the ones that applied to him (1. Total Honesty and 3. Visiting Reciprocity. Number 2, Straightforward Communication, was less of a concern). He knew objectively it hadn't been long enough to judge any sort of efficacy, but he _felt_ better, and he was pretty sure Norway did too.

"When do you have to go back?"

"I come all this way with a legitimate excuse so as not to aggravate your social phobia, and you want to know when I'm leaving?"

"You're right," Denmark said, chuckling a little.

"Of course I am. Don't tell me you have work to do, either. I read the things on your desk."

Denmark hummed. "You're going to explain to my boss why it didn't get done for me?"

"If you think that's best." Norway's tone implied Denmark had better think about the usual carnage left in the wake of his sharp tongue. The door opening knocked him out of imagining it.

"Oh good, you're still here," Denmark's boss began, his expression visibly changing when he noticed there was another person in the room.

In the back of his mind, Denmark wondered how much plausible deniability they had as he stepped forward into the space between his lover and his boss. "You remember Kongeriget Norge?"

"Of course," his boss said, politician mask reengaging as he offered a hand to Norway. "How good to see you again."

"He just came down on an errand--" Denmark began.

"We're dating," Norway corrected flatly as he leaned forward and shook his hand

Denmark nearly jumped out of his skin, especially as the rising altitude of his boss's eyebrows suggested he had in fact _not_ previously put two and two together regarding Denmark's habitual trips to Oslo.

"I see," Denmark's boss said, obviously trying to be as diplomatic as possible.

"Norge," Denmark said under his breath. Norway ignored him, so Denmark tried his boss instead, "Sorry, he can be a little blunt sometimes." He laughed a little, not missing the fact that neither Norway nor his boss laughed with him.

His boss regarded Norway warily, and Denmark sincerely hoped he would keep any thoughts of misguided overprotection to himself. "I wouldn't have guessed from the last time we met," he said, and Denmark could read the accusation there.

"We like to keep work separate from our personal lives as much as we can," Denmark said, "and we haven't been together long, only about six months, right Norge?"

"Seven." Norway's posture was as aggressive as Denmark's boss's tone.

"Maybe we should--" He noticed his boss's expression had changed to perplexed. "What?"

"I'm sorry, I had assumed the two of you..."

"Huh? Oh. No, we didn't have that kind of union. They frowned on three person marriage back then," Denmark said cheekily.

Norway snorted. "Sverige was too busy stalking Finland to be married to us."

"You know, at the time I thought it was sweet, but now that you mention it, he was pretty creepy."

Norway shrugged.

"He's not creepy now," Denmark assured his boss. "Have you gotten a chance to meet his son yet? The three of them would give you cavities."

Denmark's boss looked a little out of his depth. "I don't believe so."

Reaching around Norway, Denmark grabbed the picture frame he kept on the corner of his desk. "There he is," he said, pointing to Sealand. "My nephew, Sealand. He's a fort in the North Sea. And there's Sverige and Finland and Island," he said, moving his finger as he named them. "And me and Norge, of course." He set the frame down. "She doesn't travel with us much, but I have a picture of Færøerne in my wallet--"

"Danmark," Norway said, fond exasperation in his voice.

"Oh. Sorry, I get carried away." Imagining it from an outside perspective for a moment, he realized how strange it must be to hear about someone's not-really-but-kind-of-brother's kid who he bought over the internet.

It seemed to have worked, though. Denmark's boss's expression had softened, and he clapped Denmark lightly on the shoulder. "I'll talk to you tomorrow. Good night," he said to Norway.

"Have a good night," Denmark responded. As soon as his boss was gone, he turned to Norway. "Norge," he whined.

"Do you think," Norway said, "we could traumatize my boss if we told him we used to have wild threesomes with Sverige?"

"We could traumatize _me_ ," Denmark replied, letting his head fall and burying his face in Norway's shoulder.

"Maybe you could come with me the next time I have a meeting with him, and we could make out until he came back and caught us."

"I refuse to let you talk me into causing an international incident." Denmark's voice was muffled from mumbling against Norway's shoulder blade.

"Fine. I'll ask Island then."

" _Norge_."

A hand landed on Denmark's head, playing with his hair a little. "Do you always beam like that when you talk about us?"

Denmark looked up ever so slightly, catching a glimpse of the small smile on Norway's face. He hugged Norway tightly.

"C'mon, let's get out of here," Norway said several moments later, patting one of Denmark's hands gently. As Denmark had feared, the smile was gone now that Norway knew it would be seen.

"You know, I only have a bicycle built for one," he said as he grabbed his jacket and turned off the lights, holding the door open for Norway.

"I'll take a cab. See you there." Norway even gave a little wave over his shoulder as he walked away.

Fighting with his keys, Denmark hurried to lock the door, and _didn't it figure, they wouldn't come out._ After finally yanking them out, he ran to catch up with Norway, who took his hand and laced their fingers together. The mischievous smile on his face stayed there on display for Denmark, and if that wasn't something, Denmark didn't know what was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so the Zealand thing really only works in English, especially since New Zealand is actually named after the Netherlands' Zeeland, but I don't care （°ヮ°）/


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A conversation, after they walk together back to Denmark's house.

"Hey. Don't fall asleep. Hey."

Denmark forced his eyes open despite how heavy they felt to see Norway's annoyed face looking up at him. Smiling vaguely, he rubbed a hand up and down Norway's arm to try and placate him. "I'm up, I'm up."

Turning back to face forward, Norway nevertheless pressed infintesimally closer to Denmark's side. By the time they'd gotten to Denmark's and eaten dinner, it was very late, but the quiet of nighttime lent itself to his serious expression. "There's something I want to talk to you about."

"I'm all ears," Denmark assured him.

"But if you don't want to talk about it, I understand," Norway went on. "You've seemed not to want to in the past."

More curious than worried, Denmark sat up a little straighter. "What is it?"

"I called Frankrike yesterday and told him he was right."

"Huh?"

"When I initially sought out his advice," Norway said, playing with the fabric of his pants, "he pointed out that I wasn't exactly going about things the right way. I was more concerned with finding a solution to a problem than about actually building a relationship with someone, but I thought it was for the best."

"And you've changed your mind?"

"I'm not going to try and force it anymore," Norway said. "It's not fair to anyone that way."

"Is that going to be okay?" Denmark asked, tone neutral.

"It's not like I've never had a dry spell before. I had a particularly long one the last time I was with you," Norway said, nudging Denmark with his shoulder. He turned to look Denmark in the eye. "I know what you said, but are you sure you were never in love with Sverige? Even a little?"

Blinking several times, Denmark was sure he hadn't heard correctly, and opened his mouth to ask where Norway had gotten an idea like that, but before he could answer, Norway held up a hand.

"Before you just blurt something out, I would point out that I don't really understand how you differentiate between people you have romantic feelings for and people you don't, but when you explained it to me, it sounded like you just labeled everyone 'friend' and didn't examine your emotions any further."

"I never thought of it that way..."

"Typical," Norway said, turning back around and crossing his arms.

"I guess when you put it that way, I might have feelings for Sverige or someone else, but I don't think I really need to spend time quibbling over exactly what to name them," he said, insinuating a hand between Norway's hand and elbow, lacing their fingers together even as Norway's arms were still across his chest.

"We're getting off-topic," Norway grumbled.

"Was there something else?"

"I'm probably not going to date other nations anymore," Norway began, but hesitated before continuing. There was tension in every line of his body. Denmark squeezed his hand in silent support. "When I do meet someone, I want to be able to introduce them to you."

That surprised him, and he tried to belay the confused emotional reaction until he heard the reason why. "You want me to meet them?"

"Maybe it's a _naïve_ way of thinking, but you're my..." Norway trailed off for a moment, clearly searching for a word and coming up wanting. "It's important that you like them and they like you." He hastily added, "I don't mean that you need to spend time with them or be close friends or anything--"

"Okay," Denmark said, leaning forward and kissing the crown of his head. "I would love to meet anyone you want to introduce me to."

Narrowed eyes peered back over Norway's shoulder, evaluating the truthfulness of that statement. Denmark was sincere, though, and it didn't take long before Norway was seemingly satisfied, taut muscles relaxing slightly. "We might have to work on your Norwegian."

"My Norwegian is flawless!" Denmark protested.

Norway snorted derisively.

Taking it as a challenge, Denmark pulled Norway into his arms properly, surging forward to meet him and lining his face up with Norway's so he could speak lowly in Norwegian directly into his ear. "Of all the people I've met in my life, not one of them can compare to you, your spirit, how every moment with you is like a miracle. I'm not your boyfriend or your brother or anything so mundane as that; I'm _yours_." The last words were almost a growl, they were so fierce and full of conviction.

Twisting as best he could and grabbing Denmark's shirt with both hands, Norway returned his intensity in a kiss, unwilling to pull back until their lungs were burning from lack of air. As they caught their breath, Denmark smiled a gentle smile and ran his fingertips lightly down Norway's cheek. They met again in a less violent but no less passionate kiss, Norway's hands threading into Denmark's hair as pressed closer and closer, until they accidentally overbalanced.

"I guess my Norwegian is as good as I said!" Denmark proclaimed with a laugh, patting Norway's head where he had it buried in Denmark's chest in embarrassment. He didn't mind in the least they now were sprawled on the floor next to the couch where they had fallen, Norway half draped over him. It was cozy in a way.

Norway peered up, not lifting his head enough to reveal anything more than his eyes. "It's passable."

Denmark raised his eyebrows. "That's 'passable'? I'm practicing every day from now on!" he joked, even though he knew very well it was more what he had said and less how he'd said it.

Norway put his head back down and punched Denmark lightly in the stomach, not that that stopped his peals of laughter.

"Hey," Denmark said after a few moments of laughing, trying to coax Norway up.

Slowly, Norway inched up until his nose was more level with Denmark's chin than his solar plexus. Propping himself up on an elbow, he looked down at Denmark, bringing up his other hand to idly push back the stray locks of messy hair that had fallen over Denmark's face. It was almost strange in how fond a gesture it was, especially with the tiny smile on Norway's face that he was clearly trying to stop from getting bigger.

"Norge?"

"We can't promise each other forever, but I'm here for as long as you'll have me. I swear we can work any problems we have out, and we will." Denmark brought a hand up to cup his cheek, and he laid his hand on top of it, squeezing as he said with a dangerous flash in his eyes, "Understood?"

"Understood," he said seriously, watching the vulnerability disappear from Norway's face before pulling him down into a bear hug. "How lucky I am! Norge said he's going to stay with me almost forever!"

Norway sputtered, trying to push himself with both palms flat on the floor, but Denmark refused to let go, laughing boisterously. "Danmark!" he yelled indignantly. Denmark released him, and they stared at each other for a long moment. "You're so loud," he finally mumbled, laying right back down and clinging to Denmark affectionately.

"I guess I am," he agreed affably, clinging right back. "You're just cute when you're vowing to destroy things with me."

"Shut up."

"Love you."

"...Love you, too."

They stayed that way until they fell asleep.


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 20 years later, Norway visits an old friend.

The hospital was quiet, the corridors bright and shining. Norway's footsteps didn't echo as he read the room numbers, continuing down the hall until he found the right one. He allowed himself only a moment of hesitation before entering.

"Excuse me," he said just loud enough to be heard but not loud enough to wake someone sleeping. The figure in the bed closest to the window, the only one currently occupied, turned over slowly, smile appearing on her face when she recognized her visitor.

"If it isn't my favorite elf!" Grete was just as naturally graceful as he remembered, somehow managing to look dignified even laying in a hospital bed. Her chestnut hair had all turned grey, and she was too thin, all papery skin stretched over bone, but she was clearly still the woman he'd been so enamored of all those years ago.

"I'm not an elf," he said, walking over to her and setting the flowers he'd brought carefully on the bedside table. "But I know a few."

"Oh, you know a few. I see," she said. "But you, you're some other kind of spirit."

"Something like that," he said, sitting in the chair her last visitor had left.

"And you've come to tell an old woman your secrets on her deathbed so she can take them to the grave?"

Norway had the grace to look ashamed at that, even though he could tell from the sparkle in her eye she wasn't angry. "More like, I always meant to tell you, and I realized I couldn't put it off any longer."

"You don't know something I don't, do you?" Her eyes darted around, cagey and paranoid.

"No, I didn't mean--" He stopped when he saw her mischievous smile. "You got me again."

"Let me have some fun while I'm dying. It's boring in the hospital."

Norway didn't know how to answer. He wasn't even really sure why he'd come, just that he was sure he'd regret it if he didn't.

"I see you don't appreciate my gallows humor. It's alright, my daughters don't either. I'll just ask you how old you are to make myself feel better about my advanced age."

"It's hard to say exactly, but 872 is what I write for my birth year on all the forms."

Grete gave a low whistle. "I'll never feel ancient again. And the name you gave me...?"

"Isn't my real name."

She chuckled, though it resembled a cough. "To be honest, I thought you were some kind of spy when we first met. Always traveling for your government job."

Norway shook his head, "No, I am actually attached to the Prime Minister's office."

"Well, then, Mr. Important Government Not-An-Elf, why have you come to visit me?"

"You can get to be cynical living as long as I have," he said. "Meeting you reminded me that being trusting didn't mean being stupid. I wanted to return your honesty in kind, even if it is a little late."

Grete snorted. "I suppose twenty years would seem only a 'a little' late when someone's lived as long as you. Either way, thank you for coming, but I understand if there are things you need to keep to yourself."

"No, I'll answer anything you want to know."

"In that case, how about telling me if you ever got your beau? Add all the detail you like, I finished my last romance novel days ago."

"I did, but I'm afraid it's not really a novel-worthy romance. We're just two people getting along the best we can."

"Ah, that's the best kind of story, though," she said quietly. "One that ends not with the white wedding but the actual happiness." Reaching out a hand, Norway took it in his so she wouldn't have to strain herself. "Take it from someone who was lucky enough to get both."

"You are a remarkable woman, Grete," Norway said sincerely, "I'm honored have met you."

She laughed and gently pulled her hand back to lay on her chest. The sun was just beginning to set out the window. "My daughter will be here soon. Go home to your charmed life and stop pestering the ill."

Norway heard it for the dismissal it was, and stood. He kissed her forehead before he turned to leave.

"Do I get to know your name?" she called after him, his hand on the door.

"It's Kongeriket Norge." He didn't turn around, and when she didn't question him further, he walked out into the hall and did exactly what she told him to do, her advice as sound as ever.


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their happy ending.

Taking in the current situation, Norway took a deep breath before pushing his front door open, unsure what exactly he would find on the other side.

"Hey!" Kari gave him a little wave from the sitting room, the bracelets she always wore jingling cheerfully.

"Hey," he answered, walking over to greet her. "I'm sorry I'm late." He wasn't really, but he didn't like to keep people waiting.

She shook her head. "I just got here. Your husband let me in." She didn't seem bothered to have been left alone with Denmark, but it still made him nervous not to be there himself.

"And he abandoned you in here?" That wasn't like him at all.

"Oh, no. He's just in the kitchen. You didn't tell me he was such a great cook! I've been trying to get his butter cookie recipe out of him since about two seconds after I arrived."

"And I told her that I don't write recipes down," Denmark said, coming back with coffee in hand. "It's a lesson or nothing."

"Be careful, he's not a very good teacher," Norway put in. "Most of his measurements are 'this much'."

"I don't know, he's got to know something I don't if he can bake like this."

Denmark beamed first at Kari and then at Norway. "I like her."

He had been right to brace himself. "I'll be right back," he announced, "You two keep being foodies together."

"'S what you get for dating a chef and marrying a baker!" Grinning, Kari took another cookie.

"You're a chef?" Denmark asked excitedly.

Suppressing a smile, Norway slipped away as Kari began telling Denmark about her plans for opening her own Italian restaurant one day. She was still pretty young, but she dreamed big.

After putting away his briefcase, he headed back down the stairs into the kitchen to grab himself a cup of coffee before joining the pair in the sitting room, only to find Denmark already there doing it for him. "So I'm your husband now?" Denmark asked lightly.

Norway fidgeted. "I needed a way to differentiate when I was dating Lars, and it seemed the simplest option."

"You didn't need to with Kari."

Cursing that he'd never figured out how to keep himself from blushing when he was embarrassed, he stubbornly didn't say anything.

Denmark chuckled, picking up the coffee cup and bringing it to Norway, kissing him on the forehead as he handed it to him. "20 years next month, and we never picked a word. I think 'husband' is as good as any."

"Are you proposing to me in my kitchen with my girlfriend in the other room?" Norway grumbled.

"It may not be normal," Denmark said with a smile and a shrug, "but it's us."

Minding the hot coffee, Norway leaned forward to rest his head on Denmark's shoulder. "Lucky thing I love you."

"I give thanks for it every day," he replied, putting an arm loosely around Norway's back.

"Not lucky for you, idiot. Lucky for me."

"Norge," Denmark said, and Norway could hear the happy tears in his voice.

Pulling back, he used his free hand to wipe the tear rolling down Denmark's cheek. "Pull yourself together," he said, "we've got company. You can be sentimental later."

"Right," Denmark said, almost instantaneously back to normal. "Shall we?"

Norway took his hand, and they stepped forward together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it's finished! Previous to this the longest fic I'd ever written was about 2,500 words; four months and 37,000 words later, here we are :D Thank you so much to everyone who read and commented, I would never have finished it without you, and beyond that, your support was personally helpful as I wrote this fic that touched on a lot of my own issues and insecurities. Writing this was the antidote to all the negative things in my life, and I really want to thank you all for coming along with me (even and especially the lurkers!).
> 
> If you have anything else you'd like to see in this universe, please let me know and I will do my best to write it. I don't want to let this story go (;_;)


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